


How to Fall in Love

by in_chains_and_flesh_and_leather



Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 61,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23542288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_chains_and_flesh_and_leather/pseuds/in_chains_and_flesh_and_leather
Summary: A Clyde x reader fanfic where you move to Boone County, strike up an immediate friendship with the long-faced and tender-hearted bartender and end up being his dating coach. Basically, the (awful) Hallmark movie also called How to fall in love, but angstier :)
Relationships: Clyde Logan & Reader, Clyde Logan/Reader, Clyde Logan/You
Comments: 51
Kudos: 114





	1. West Virginia, Wild and Wonderful

You finally arrived to your little house in West Virginia. It felt a bit strange – as it always does – to arrive some place new with the knowledge you would spend some of your irretrievable finite time on this planet there and, then, one day be gone.

Whether it was living a nomadic life with your diplomat father or studying at different colleges or now working for your good friend at his startup, all of these moves were temporary.

However, living so much of your life outside the US and then landing in this small town felt a little bit like stepping into a movie with typical Americana. The little one-story house had a porch and an attached garage for a car you didn’t own. Someone kept the various plants and bushes lush, but neat. It looked like the kind of place a busy business woman thriving in the city would slink off to lick her wounds on her mom’s couch before she realized there was more to life that closing that nebulous deal. And probably that her best friend from childhood is hot now and they should hook up. It was cute and you would enjoy living here, you determined, for however long it may be.

You had the weekend to settle in and Monday you started with the onboarding process. You were starting out small – going to a community where salaries weren’t necessarily anything to write home about and hiring about half a dozen people. It would surely take much of the load off of you and Bryan, the CEO and your drinking buddy.

Less than a month ago, you were in a meeting with him and your investors, making a plea for hiring domestic labor rather than outsourcing these duties.

“And this is Y/N L/N, our COO and the reason why in this company se habla Español.” – Bryan introduced you to warm chuckles. You felt silly then for expecting the room to be cold, full of gray-haired, mean-faced old men who would expect you to bounce a ball on your nose impressively enough to be bukkaked in their cash.

“More like Venezuelan, but we manage.” – you joked and then started your rehearsed-to-seem-casual speech about how obtaining foreign labor which was educated and whose English is good enough not be embarrassing and off putting to customers was only fractionally less expensive than hiring folk from the middle of the country. Besides, it was fair, magnanimous… patriotic? When that didn’t exactly end in uproarious applause, you pointed out how much good PR it would be and make the company much more relatable and sympathetic. That got ‘em good.

Your preliminary research said Kentucky and West Virginia were good candidates to start looking. Your investors had the final say and within two weeks, you were Zoom interviewing about two dozen candidates and now here you were, getting ready to train these kind and grateful people.

Jesus, could you be less prepared? Does anybody really ever know what the hell they’re doing? A year ago, you were sharing carrot cake with Bryan and he mentioned how, fuck it, he wants to start a business. Fuck it. He started one. And now you’re teaching your team how to process orders, talk to vendors and troubleshoot with customers. 

*

During the week, you were doing a great deal of the real work while the newbies were finding their feet, slowly letting each person take on more and more tasks. They were doing wonderfully and Bryan was thrilled with how much progress they were making. This would have taken five times as long if they were across the globe or if you were back in Chicago with him. “You were right, as always.” – an elegant white card read, sticking out a bouquet. Bryan had it delivered for you first thing in the morning and told you to take the team out for drinks that night to celebrate their first week with the company.

“Hey, Sally, where can we go out tonight? The boss man wants us to unwind a little cuz you’ve all been doing such a great job!” – you never missed a chance to praise your team, wanting to build a truly collaborative, friendly vibe.

Several suggestions were thrown your way, but ‘Duct Tape’ made you laugh, so you settled on that one.

*

After work, you all dispersed and went to your respective homes to have dinner, shower, relax and change, so you could drink up and party. You would have volunteered to be the designated driver, but since you didn’t know the town, Sally took one for the team. According to her, she wasn’t a big drinker anyway, so that soothed your guilt a little.

She also offered to pick you up and was there at 8 on the dot. Again, your relative foreigner status made you squeal in delight as you climbed into her dad's van, noticing all the distressed denim shorts and cowboy boots you’d only seen in videos prior to this. Sally even had on a tassel vest which could have been boho, but was decidedly country paired with her Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt. You were in heaven, this was already so much fun,

You pulled up to the… Duck? Duck Tape? Oh, my god. Hilarious. Stepping out, you immediately took a picture to send Bryan, this was too good.

By the time you sent the message and made your way in, greeted by a kindly man sitting by the door and smoking, your team was already assembled by an empty pool table and chatting. You didn’t take in your surroundings much; you had all night for that. For now, you just wanted to join them and start integrating into this community as well as you could.

*

Once everyone had their order down, Sally made her way to the bar to order. You followed her with your eyes, trying to get the layout of the bar down – door here, bar in the middle, pool tables… She would also need to point you to bathroom lat—

Holy.

Shit.

The man who walked up to her to take her order was your typical fairytale tall-dark-and-handsome, in a charcoal button-down, tucked in his jeans – bless his heart. He was certainly striking, and attractive in an off-beat way, and his head dangerously close to the ceiling as he moved… it was instantly doing things to you.

Sally seemed to have a little crush on that handsome boulder of a bartender and it was no wonder. But he ignored her fluttering lashes and arching back with all the naiveté of a man truly oblivious.

“Mph, now I’m thinking I actually want a whiskey sour.” – one of your coworkers grumbled.

“You know, I’ll go over to the bar and tell them, and get myself a shot of tequila while I’m there.” – you were already on your way as you explained.

“Alright, boss.” – Tucker, the youngest member of your team, cheered.

“Don’t call me that, Tucker, please.” – you shot back, landing at the bar. – “Hey.” – you placed a hand on Sally’s back and turned your attention to the bartender, hoping you wouldn’t blush. – “Is it too late to change the order?” - you asked apologetically.

“No, ma’m.” – he put down the bottle he was holding and looked up at you expectantly.

“Could you make the whiskey a whiskey sour, please? And a tequila for me. Straight up.” – you supplied.

His eyebrow shot up slightly at your order.

“Boss!” - Sally apparently wasn’t expecting you to be throwing back shots like that, but she looked pleased.

“Et tu,Sally? Please.” – you rolled your eyes playfully at her for calling you boss - you'd asked everyone several time to just use your name. It wasn't some false modesty, it was honestly anxiety-inducing as it felt like you had the responsibility for all these people - and you did - and god, it was getting hot in here - that tequila couldn't come fast enough.

“So you’re that lady Sally’s been talkin’ up a storm about?” – Clyde asked, voice low and sweet. It was honestly a pleasure to listen to.

“Have you?” – you winked at Sally, who didn’t seem embarrassed at all to confess to her excitement.

“Ain’t she everythin’ I said she would be?” – she motioned at you up and down and you made no comment, wondering what she could have said about you.

Clyde’s eyes instinctively followed Sally’s hands up and as far down as the counter allowed him to see you and he quickly took them off of you, not wanting to offend. He offered a neutral “Mmh” in response.

He was lining up the drinks for your group and finished up with a shot of tequila for you and one for him.

“s’bad luck to drink alone.” – he told you as he lifted his glass.

“I didn’t know that.” – you retorted, lifting yours as well. – “But I trust you.” – he didn’t smile exactly, but his face brightened and his eyes flickered from side to side, looking at yours like he was searching for something.

“Besides, I’d like to toast to you and your endeavors.” – he added, softening his gaze.

“To the lady of the hour.” – Sally couldn’t not cut in, probably a little jealous at this uninterrupted eye contact, if your guess about her crush was correct.

“To the lady of the hour.” – Clyde parroted and drank up, never taking his eyes off yours. You knew, because your eyes never left his. God, you didn’t want to blink as it would be a shame not to look at him for that long.

You belly already felt so warm and fuzzy, you didn’t even register the burning of the tequila as it settled in.

“Alright, I’m headin’ back, I’ve keepin’ us waiting too long.” – Sally announced, picking up her share of the drinks to take back.

*

As the night wore on and the drink took effect, your team and the other patrons got rowdier. It was a Friday night at a bar, after all. You were mostly trying to stay out of everyone’s way as it was your first night out here. You would indulge your coworkers and even some strangers who seemed kind and wanted to twirl you around or motioned to you to join the fun, but that was about it for tonight. You found a relatively quiet spot at the bar and took to mostly observing the crowd.

“First time round these parts?” – Clyde asked. He was cleaning a glass and had you not heard the question and known there was nobody else he could be talking to, you wouldn’t guess he had even noticed you sitting there. His eyes were firmly trained on the immaculate glass he was shining and he had a look on his face like he was deep in thought.

“Yeah, it’s pretty great so far.” – you offer back, your full attention on him, body turning to face his way.

“Where’re you from?” – he swallows and looks up at you through his upturned eyebrows as if you might scold him for asking, for bothering you.

“Oh.” – you take in a deep breath, this is always a long answer. – “DC originally, then a bunch of places, then Seattle, Chicago and now here.” – you finished with a smile.

“How’s that?” – he narrows his eyes at you, but you feel his gaze falling over your hair, your lips, your eyes… Never lower, to check out you rack, which is nice.

“My dad was a diplomat, so we lived in France and Venezuela and the Ukraine. Then I was with my mom’s family for a while before studying. And that’s about it.”- you shrug, trying not to make too big a deal out of it.

“That’s amazin’.” – Clyde says honestly, looking at you more intently than before, like a puzzle he’s determined to solve. You give him your patented, shrug-and –look-down modest smile which you developed for situations like these, when people give you too much credit for what is really your dad’s accomplishment.

Once your eyes were off him, Clyde straightened up and took a step back, he had been feasting his eyes on you way too much, wasn't proper. He had been looking at your pretty lips and eyes and hair and thanking whoever was listening for sending this vision of a woman into his bar and he’d forgotten himself.

A regular called out for another drink and Clyde was equal parts relived and sore that he had to leave you and get that drink.

While he was gone, Jackson took the seat next to you. You didn’t know his name was Jackson, you first heard his beer clink on the bar next to you. Then you heard “Hi, there” in that unmistakable bar tone which either ends in making out (or more) or fine-then-you’re-an-ugly-bitch-anyway. Before you even turned your head towards him, you knew which way it would go. Had you not met Clyde earlier tonight, you might hear him out, but by now you knew full well that if anyone was going anywhere with you tonight, or many nights to come, it could only be that soft-spoken bear of a man.

You didn’t want to shut him down with the simple ‘sorry, not interested’ mostly because that line worked best in crowded clubs where you could quickly get lost in the crowd. And you didn’t want to come off as a snooty city girl right off the bat.

So Jackson introduced himself and started to work what he thought was his magic. You hadn’t taken much notice of another man who sat at the corner of the bar near you and was wordlessly served a drink by Clyde. You hazarded one look at him – you just wanted to soothe yourself in the midst of these unwanted advances by looking at his dark hair, how could it look so soft and fluffy?! - and right on cue, in that split second, he also glanced at you. Damn it!

Clyde was serving Jimmy the usual and was quietly grateful he entered and sat so close to you, so that he could come closer again, maybe hear what that pretty boy Jackson was saying to ya. Sure enough, he was enquiring about your state of affairs and turned the conversation in the direction of you gon’ need a car, baby, and he owns a dealership, he’d be real happy to help. It’s his brother that owns the dealership, the lyin’ li’l shit. ‘sides, if you needed driving anywhere, Clyde would take ya. With bells on. He’d take ya to Chicago, to Seattle, France, Venezuela, Ukraine, you name it.

“Well, you just have a solution to everything.” – you answered his offer as neutrally as you could. – “That’s a good kind of guy to know.” – you tried to make any future relationship you may have sound distant and unromantic. You also hoped Clyde was in earshot.

If worse came to worst, you would hope that he had that sixth sense that all bartenders seemed to develop of being able to read a girl’s pleading eyes when she’s cornered by an undesirable man.

You couldn’t see it, but the side of his mouth facing away from you quirked up at hearing your response and the non-committal tone. His heart dropped from his throat back to his chest; he was afraid for a second that he may have lost you before he ever had a chance to try to get you.

Sally threw you a lifeline when she called your name from the dance floor and you finally had an excuse to leave, saying it was a work night out.

“Come on, Jackson, leave the poor gal be, it’s a no-go.” – Jimmy pleaded mockingly once you were far enough away.

“What’s that, Jimmy?” – Jackson challenged, bristling.

“Come on.” - Jimmy drawled. – “She don’t wanna 86 ya in front of everybody, but she’s just bein’ polite.” – he paused to let Jackson rewind your interactions a little in his head. When he was satisfied that Jackson was sufficiently convinced, he offered – “Let’s you an’ I shoot some pool, let the poor gal work.”

*

After a little more dancing and cracking some jokes with your coworkers, you decided to go check your phone and ask for some sparkling water at the bar.

You responded to the latest text from Bryan and checked the time. The bar would be closing soon. In all honesty, you didn’t expect to stay that long, but your team was having fun and even if you wanted to go, you couldn’t find your way back alone.

“Thanks.” – you said with a big smile to Clyde as he handed you the water.

“Havin’ a good time?” – he was talking to the ground again, but you responded anyway. There was something so endearing about a guy who looked like he could carry you around in the palm of his hand, but could barely look you in the eyes.

“A great time, thanks! I’m already looking forward to coming back. And you?” – you fired the question before he had enough time to bask in your comment about wanting to come back. To his bar. His chest wanted to swell with joy and pride and who knows what else, but he had to respond.

“I am now.” – he glanced into your eyes, because he couldn’t bear not to, and then settled his gaze on your delicate hands holding the glass. You had the gentlest touch, he could tell, he could just _tell_ , and he needed that gentleness in his life, needed to feel your hands on his skin—

“Can I get another?” – Sally rested a coworker’s empty beer glass on the counter and Clyde practically jumped before filling up another pint. After that, he served a few more people on the other side of the bar. Then he returned to you, carrying a drink, his jaw tight.

“This is for you.” – he informed you. You were about to say you hadn’t ordered anything, but he supplied – “From the gentleman over there.” – he nodded his head towards the other side of the bar and stared into the distance, away from you, with pursed lips.

Will this end already? How many more men were about to flirt with you before his very eyes tonight? They wanna make him lose his damn mind?

You clicked your tongue, unimpressed at all the attention you were getting. Nobody had been rude or anything and they were handsome enough fellows, but you just wished the bar would magically empty, so you could stay alone with your bartender. _Your_ bartender? That was quick.

“Hey, um, Clyde?” – you said his name quietly before he left.

“Yeah?” – _darlin’_? He’d work up the nerve to say it next time he saw you, he swore it.

“Would you mind getting him whatever he’s drinking on me? And say I’m very grateful and flattered, but I just… can’t. God, I’m sorry, I’m giving you a whole novel over here…”

“No, s’alright, I get it. Consider it done.” – he cracked a tiny smile and it felt like a tremendous victory. There was something about his demeanor that told you he was a quiet, dour sort of guy most of the time, so this little twinkle in his eye and a flash of teeth felt great.

Hovering around the bar, tempting as it was, seemed to attract unwanted attention, so you skipped back over to the dance floor and thought you’d check if people were ready to leave. You had a mom on your team, so she would probably have Saturday morning activities planned with her kids, but nope, she was currently jousting with a pool cue, so maybe she wasn’t looking to leave just yet.

Tucker and a friend of his were feeling a country song you didn’t recognize particularly hard, climbing on two chairs and trying to coordinate a dance. It wasn’t going swimmingly, but it was amusing. Until that it, the jousting match jostled someone who tripped and pushed your coworker’s chair from under him. He managed to land relatively unscathed on his behind, but the chair smashed into a glass display case. A very pretty. Decorative. Vintage. Probably expensive. Glass display case.

“Clyde!” – he yelled, like a kid caught by his dad. – “Boss.” – he turned to you. You signaled for him to keep it down and he did, looking all guilty and suddenly sober.

Accidents were no surprise at a bar, so Clyde barely even blinked at the noise of glass shattering. He surveyed the crowd, nobody seemed to be brawling or to have gotten hurt, so that was good enough for him. The rest was stuff. You can always fix or replace stuff.

Similarly, you tried to keep your cool as people made a fuss as most people normally do.

“Alright, guys, I think that’s enough for tonight. Let’s get you home, I’ll stay behind and settle the bill.”

“Alright, everyone, last call.” – Clyde announced as you spoke to your coworkers.

“But how are you gonna get home?” – Sally asked.

“Don’t worry about that, please. I’m mostly sobered up, I’ll figure it out. The best thing you can do for me now” – you pressed on before she could protest – “is get everyone home safely. You’ve been so wonderful tonight, I’m so grateful…”

“But…” – Sally couldn’t not jump in.

“I’ll take ‘er, don’t you worry, Sally.” – you recognized the man from sitting close to you at the bar earlier. You didn’t know him yet, but everyone else seemed to know him and trust him, so there, that was an option.

*

By the time Sally corralled everyone into the van and you stepped out to reassure them nothing was wrong and you weren’t upset, the other patrons had also cleared out and you found yourself inside the bar with Clyde, sweeping up the glass and the other man, apparently waiting for you.

“We haven’t been properly introduced.” – he joked. Or you assumed he was joking. – “Jimmy Logan, Clyde’s brother.”

“Oh! Hi! Y/n. Good to meet you.” – you shook his hand enthusiastically before bringing up your index finger, asking to step away for one minute.

“Clyde, I am so sorry…” – you started when you were within earshot.

“Now don’t apologize, you didn’t do nothin’. ‘sides, it was an accident.” – he spoke mostly to the ground, turning one side of his face towards you.

“Regardless, I’m sorry for the mess and the ruckus. And it goes without saying, but I want to compensate you for the damage.” - you tried to sounds as businesslike as possible.

“No, forget it, it’s just an old display case.” – Jimmy cut in as Clyde stepped away, heading back behind the bar. The broken glass was mostly scooped up in a pile, but transferring it onto a dustpan would be either a task for Jimmy or something he struggled with himself, and he was damned if he was gonna let you see either one of those.

“Please, I insist.” – you looked between the two brothers and they seemed like the kind of people who would view it as ungentlemanly to let you settle this. – “I mean, I would really like to keep coming here with my coworkers and it wouldn’t feel right if you don’t let us start off on the right foot.” – you used your sweetest voice and threw in some pleading eyes for good measure.

“I think she’s gotcha there, li’l brother.” – Jimmy laughed.

“Unless maybe you don’t want us to keep coming by…” - you offered, giving Clyde an out.

“No, I do.” – that was the quickest he’d responded to any of your questions all night. Jimmy just laughed some more as his brother chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Where’s the bathroom? I need to wash my face to wake up a little, I’m falling asleep where I stand.” – both brothers pointed you in the direction of the restroom. – “You stay up this late every night? How do you do it?” – you barely got the last words out before you yawned and kept yawning all the way to the bathroom.

*

“You sweet on that city gal, Clyde?” – Jimmy asked knowingly.

Without looking up and barely audibly, Clyde feebly lied. – “No.”

“Yeah, right. Well, she turned down two men tonight. Real graceful-like. That gave me an idea.” – Jimmy said with that evil glint in his eyes. The same glint that got Clyde into juvie. That made him rob the Charlotte Motor Speedway. A part of him knew it was pointless to argue, but he couldn’t help it. It was like that moment before diving off a cliff – he knew it he would do it and he knew he would like it once he did, as much he fought it in the beginning, but right now, all he could do was struggle against Jimmy’s pull.

“No. Whatever you’re thinkin’, no.” – Clyde growled lowly, but it did nothing to deter his brother.

You came back, momentarily refreshed, hoping the jolt of cold water would keep you awake until you got home.

“So here’s the thing, this whole mess is gon’ take a little while to calculate. And Clyde and I agreed you should come back here, tomorrow afternoon, grab a coffee or a drink and he’ll have a bill ready for you. Isn’t that right?” – Jimmy asked Clyde to confirm. Everything he had said so far had been remarkably, and suspiciously, reasonable.

“Yes.” – Clyde almost choked on the word.

“Okay, sounds good. Thank you.” – you had expected more arguing or to pay tonight, but sure, tomorrow worked just fine. Jimmy noted it was time to get you home and you agreed, only slightly disappointed you had to say goodbye to Clyde. You left a generous tip on the counter before bolting for the door as Clyde tried to slide it back to you. – “Till tomorrow!” – you shouted and went after Jimmy.

*

The ride to your place was pleasant, you learned that Jimmy lives further south, closer to his daughter and visits often. The Logans also have a sister, who is a hairdresser. You told him a little about yourself and felt quite at ease around him.

“Alright, so don’t take this the wrong way, hear me out – but I have a proposition for you”. – Jimmy turned to you as he put the car in park and laid his big idea on you.

*

Clyde was closing up the bar, reflecting on his conversation with Jimmy. And this intense, _too intense_ , feeling he suddenly had for you. It was immediately obvious to his brother, but that’s his brother. Though he didn’t seem to disapprove.

Not like with Grayson.

He almost fell headlong into that FBI woman’s clutches, but thankfully, Clyde Logan was no fool and Mellie and Jimmy kept their eyes peeled for anyone who rubbed shoulders with their brother. She couldn’t keep up her sweet persona for long and he found she was drilling him way too hard for just an unsuspecting passer-by. He pulled back, she eventually gave up and he resolved, perhaps more than ever, to settle into his solitude.

That tryst did, however, open up the subject of finding Clyde Logan a girl in his siblings’ minds. Opened it in perpetuity, it seemed. Cuz now, really, he had no excuse anymore.

He was back from overseas. Can’t use that excuse. His arm had healed. _But it was still missin’, Jimmy. Now that don’t matter and it don’t stop you livin’ your life, Clyde._ He had a stable job. And he had a shit ton of money. So what the fuck was he waiting for?

He didn’t have a clear answer to that question until tonight.

But it was answered for him.

He was waiting for you.


	2. Self-confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one that was supposed to be way faster-paced, but I can't help myself with this soft boi. And Jimmy Logan can be my wingman any time.

*

“What do you mean?” – you asked Jimmy, only slightly unnerved. You never imagined a conversation starting that way would end in a good place.

“Alright, okay. So you seem like a really nice lady and, if you don’t mind me sayin’, someone who gets hit on a lot?” – Jimmy waved a hand in explanation, inviting you to agree.

“Erm… I don’t know what a lot is, but…” – you started, not sure where you were going.

“I mean, I saw two guys tonight. And that’s just a couple of hours on one night.” – he stated, like he had you cornered in impenetrable logic. You shook your head, ready to disagree somehow, but he continued. – “Listen, you don’t have to justify guys hittin’ on you to me, okay? I got into enough scrapes over Mellie to know it’s not something you can control. My point was that you probably seen and heard a lot and know what’s off-puttin’.”

“Sure.” – you shrugged. Jimmy didn’t look like someone who needed to be told what ladies liked and disliked.

“Well.” – he paused. – “My brother is a terrific guy, by the way.” – he seemed to interrupt himself and try to convince you.

“Yeah, he’s a doll.” – you nodded, casting your eyes down. It suddenly felt like you had to hide your whole face so that he won’t read I-wanna-do-stuff-with-your-terrific-brother right across it. Ugh, how awkward! Don’t think it so loudly, brain, shit.

“But lemme tell ya, he’s as sharp as a bowlin’ ball when it comes to women.” – Jimmy rolled his eyes and you snorted loudly. - “Not that the ladies aren’t into him.” – he added and your throat was suddenly constricted, stomach dropping below sea level. You just nodded, wanting him to move on and hopefully drive away this sudden cocktail of jealousy and sadness. – “They’re all over him at the bar, you might’ve seen it tonight. If you haven’t, you will – it’s appallin’.”

“I’m still not sure what you think I can do. I don’t know that I can perform some miracle and suddenly make him cool with that atten--”

“No, no, no. That’s not what I mean. I’m just saying talk to him, shake him up a li’l bit - you’ll understand what I’m tryna say. He just… I don’t think he sees himself right, you know? Maybe if he had an outsider’s perspective…” – he motioned to you, as if anyone else was an option. It was endearing. A grown ass man pleading another grown ass man’s case in front of you, as if you had any authority or anything to offer, really.

“And… your brother is okay with this?” – somehow Clyde didn’t seem like someone who would let basically a stranger come in and tell him how to live his life.

“You leave that up to me. I just wanted to hear you’d consider it and I think that was a yes.” – he beamed.

“I don’t know that it is, I still don’t quite know what you want me to do.” – you laughed, feeling like maybe you had fallen asleep on the floor of the bar and this was just a hilarious, bizarre dream.

“We’ll talk more about it tomorrow.” – he hopped out and jogged to your door to open it for you. You fought the initial instinct to tell him he doesn’t need to do that and just thanked him. – “Go get some sleep now, I’m sure you’ve had enough for one day.”

“You can say that again. Thank you for getting me home. And everything else.” – you smiled.

“You know how to repay me!” – he called back, getting into the truck again, a smile in his voice. It sounded like he said another word too, but you couldn’t really make it out.

*

You turned the fragment of the idea in your head that night, and morning, and day. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it, strange though it was.

What would be the harm in talking to Clyde?

And hanging out with him?

And maybe getting a free pass to tell him how appealing he is without seeming desperate? Or _too_ desperate.

You’d also have a real friend outside of work and that would be invaluable.

And if you just so happened, for reasons entirely selfish and hormonal, to really enjoy this time spent with him and get lost in your own head and feelings, well, you weren’t hurting anybody.

Oh, but hold up.

What if Clyde said no?

_Hey, you, obviously stoic and reserved man, let this girl who broke your case know all about your deepest intimacy issues and let her rearrange your life to her liking. Oh, no? You’re not super into that after talking to her for one night? That’s weird._

God, you could be stupid sometimes; you should go there, thank them very much for their hospitality and graciousness and try not to look like a complete jackass when one of them tells you this whole thing was preposterous.

*

You spent probably four times as long carefully and calculatedly getting ready for this… thing than the last first date you were on. First dates were easy. That one midi dress that is fitted and sexy up top, paired with Doc Martens so you can go for a walk when he _inevitably_ suggests it, thinking he’s the first guy to brilliantly come up with a post drink/dinner walk. Boom, easy.

But this?

Look cute enough so that this dreamboat wants to spend time with you, but not so try hard that if he says _no, this is ridiculously invasive_ you feel like trash, and don’t stick out in this small town in your curator-at-a-NY-gallery attire, but also don’t look like you’re cosplaying a Southern Belle… Christ.

*

Jimmy picked you up late in the afternoon while Sadie was playing with Mellie in her salon, before too many people started pouring into the bar. He was in a good mood as he held the door open for you. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, thinking about how to relay it to him that he needn’t do that.

“How ya feelin’?” – he asked driving fast, but probably not much over the speed limit.

“Like I bumped my head, if that makes sense.” – you responded after sighing.

“Great, then you’ll fit right in with us.” – he joked.

“You know, you are disarmingly welcoming.” – you stated gratefully.

“Listen, if this all works out, you’re about to become… practically family. Get used to it.” – he shrugged like it was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it was the way you were raised, but you didn’t normally get too attached to strangers, it would only lead to more heartbreak in the future. But now you were here, for who knows how long – maybe a month, maybe years – and you were prepared to make deeper relationships. However, a week in and you’re already tentatively penciled into somebody’s family tree? And you’re fine with it? And it feels like a hug all the time? That was new.

Reading your silence, Jimmy continued. – “Oh, are you one of those folks who ate dinner in silence growing up? And didn’t say I love you and I hate you a couple times a day?” – your laughter of recognition confirmed that. - “Alright, so, I mean, that’s all about to change. We Logans are huggers and criers and screamers and all that. It’s good for the soul.” – he explained.

Wild thoughts swirled in your head, of excitement and desire to experience people like that, to worry about whether you’d be able to fit in. In the end, you just told him - “Okay. So did you talk to your brother, what does he think about all of this?”

 _Clyde woke up to the familiar and foreboding smell of perfectly burnt bacon. Goddamn Jimmy. He_ knew _he was up to something._

_He walked right past him as he was fixing up two plates and saw another goddamn list stuck to his fridge._

_How to fall in love_

_1) Self-confidence_

_2) Breaking the ice_

_3) The art of conversation_

_4) Start sharing_

_5) Make her feel special_

_6) Getting close_

_7) Compromise_

_8) Follow your heart_

_9)_

_10)_

_In true Jimmy fashion, organization not being his strong suit, the list seemed incomplete. He would later claim that 10 is a nice round number, but he just didn’t have enough time to work it all out cause you all needed to move fast._

_Clyde decided it was smarter to let him talk and find out just how much of a mess he had already made with regard to you._

_“And I’ll have you know she_ loves _the idea!” – Jimmy concluded, all proud and victorious._

 _“She_ loves _the idea? Then she’s as crazy as you.” – Clyde challenged, feeling bad for offending you, even though he was convinced that Jimmy either made it up or was wildly exaggerating._

_“She was surprised, but she’s open to the idea.” – Jimmy toned it down. – “And that’s my future sister-in-law you’re talkin’ ‘bout, don’t call her crazy.” – Jimmy teased, wanting to see how he would react._

_Clyde’s lips bunched together and quivered as they always did when he was trying not to say something or have an emotional outburst. He got up and left the room before he either welled up or decked his brother._

“He’s… a little worried, but he’s open to the idea.” – Jimmy said the first part all high-pitched and fast, which made you believe Clyde was more than a little worried.

“And so what now?” – you asked.

“Now we all talk.” – he stated simply, like it was obvious, and you kicked yourself for being so in your head that he again managed to hop out the door and come over to your side by the time you realized he would and wrestled out of the seatbelt.

*

Clyde was wiping down the bar, though it didn’t need it, trying to keep himself busy. As if wracking his brain, thinking of how to approach you wasn’t bad enough, he now had to face you after his brother, his own flesh and blood, made him look like an idiot, incapable of talking to the opposite sex. He was capable. Nervous and shy about it. Pretty bad at it too, as far as he could recall. Eventually it would all always go to shit. But he was capable, damn it.

And now a woman like no other he’d ever met just materialized in his life and he was immediately smitten, like it finally jerked him awake from a bad dream that had gone on for too long, and then his own brother…!

_“This is a chance to spend a ton of time with her, Clyde!”- Jimmy threw his hands up in frustration; they’d been going over the same things all day._

_“Jimmy, it’s too weird. I don’t want you to get all involved in… I was gonna ask her out anyway.” – Clyde finally confessed._

_“Oh, yeah? Then go ahead. I’m off to get her right now and you just go ahead.”- Jimmy crouched to stick his face lower and catch Clyde’s downcast eyes._

_“Now, I didn’t mean right now, we just met…” – Clyde started to stutter out. Can’t he just be left alone? And let him take his goddamn time. He didn’t wanna screw this up._

_“Yeah, you’re right, best wait till you’re married to ask her, you don’t wanna get ahead o’yourself and look stupid.”- Jimmy commented, grabbing his keys, going out to pick you up._

He threw the rag down forcefully and huffed, working his jaw. He wished he could just leave. If it was anyone else, he would have just left. Leave Jimmy to explain it all. But he would rather break his own face before being rude to you. Just imagining disappointment or offense settling in your eyes made him feel sick.

And then there was that little tiny voice. The one he would yell at and stomp on and push way back into his mind cause it had only ever brought him disappointment so far. The baseless hope that you might walk in today or tomorrow or whenever and just take his hand and take him somewhere and he would be happy. He shook his head to quiet that stupid, _stupid_ voice and huffed again.

He must have been pitching a fit in his own head for a while because he heard you and Jimmy walk in. He was not ready. He was going to calm down first, then get himself psyched up to see you and think of something good… smart….to say. He was _not_ ready.

“Hi.” - you greeted him simply and tried your best not to look awkward. As much as this was a challenge for you, you imagined it was more of a challenge for Clyde.

“Hello.” – he greeted back, giving you only the shortest glance before dropping his eyes. – “What can I get ya both?”

Jimmy looked at you to order first. – “Black coffee.”

“Me too. But with cream and sugar.” – Jimmy said. - “I gotta step out, make a phone call. I want good news when I come back, ya hear?” – he mock warned, already shifting focus to this phone.

And then you were alone. Sure, there were people scattered around, but they were far away and engrossed in their own conversations. Without Jimmy as a buffer, it suddenly felt like you were sitting there in your underwear.

“So have you calculated the damage?” – you asked, trying to ease Clyde into a conversation.

“No, m’sorry, I just had the guy pick it up and take it to his shop.” – he responded. As he wound down his response, his mood seemed to drop too. – “Listen.” – he sighed and tried to find the right words to express his brother was an impetuous idiot and please, can we start over?

“Can I go first? Please?” – you asked, before you knew you did it.

Clyde looked up at you, determined to take whatever you had to say like a man. He had been babied and coddled and pitied and ridiculed, and he wanted none of that from you. He’d rather take rejection.

You had to swallow after trying to force the words out of your throat twice under the fierceness of his gaze. He looked serious and attentive and it felt like those eyes penetrated all the way through your skull. You almost wished he would return to looking down because your stomach was dropping through your pelvis down to the floor.

Despite the nerves, or because of them, you smiled and just spoke from the heart. – “You brother… is singularly charming.” – you started and though Clyde had some choice words for Jimmy, he kept silent. – “And it’s already clear to me he would do anything for you. Though I suppose that’s what siblings do.” – you added, trying not to sound too saccharine. – “I’m not sure what he’s thinking exactly, but it sounds to me like we would hang out and talk and exchange experiences. I don’t see the harm in that.”

Yes, great, let’s! Let’s get outta here right now and just be together. Clyde literally had to gnash his teeth together to stop from jumping into the middle of your sentence. He nodded pensively, hoping that his accelerated breathing wasn’t too obvious.

“I mean, I definitely need a friend. And maybe you could use a friend too?” – you offered, needing to be reassured.

Oh, you had no idea. Clyde swallowed and looked into your eyes again. – “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You wished he would speak in that low gentle voice more. But hey, wasn’t that the point of the deal you were striking? - “Also, I’m all about prying questions and oversharing, so this won’t be a stretch for me.” – you added, laughing in relief. Clyde didn’t laugh, but his eyes did soften as he looked at you laughing and suddenly you felt warm and giddy. – “Shall we shake on it? Whatever ‘it’ is?” – you offered a hand and for a split second felt ice cold panic shoot through you that maybe it was the wrong one, but no, phew, he extended his own hand to you and you gripped it. It was large and warm, slightly calloused and though he shook your hand quite tenderly, it felt like he could crush a rock in it. There was something electric in touching his skin that made you wanna squirm in your seat.

“Sure. But my one condition is you forget about the case and keep bringin’ your here team to hang out.” – Clyde answered, still holding your hand, now perfectly still.

And you’d learned something new about yourself then – you were unable to be touching Clyde Logan and simultaneously form coherent sentences. You opened and snapped your mouth closed as he watched you in amusement, eyes sparkling, eyebrows high and… taunting? You shook your head, hoping the power of speech would return to you. – “Ugh, I knew something like that would happen. Alright, fine, you win this time, but I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

“You already have.” – he tilted his head dismissively and you had to fight not to roll your eyes, though you couldn’t keep the corners of your mouth from curling up.

“Oh, you little…” – you were gonna shoot off a playful insult and he tilted his chin up, goading you on, but you licked your lips and looked to the side to keep from crossing any lines.

Clyde’s eyes dropped to your joined hands, knowing this contact had gone on for a bit too long when gave him a final, definitive shake and you both pulled away. – “So when are we starting?”

“Ohh, I think I’m hearin’ good news!” – Jimmy appeared and pushed into the invisible bubble you two had been inhabiting. Under different circumstances, you would have been mad someone interrupted your moment, but now it was only a matter of time before you had more, and plenty, so you just grinned.

“Oh, yeah, I made this for you, it might be helpful.” – Jimmy reached into his back pocket and produced a piece of paper.

“For the love of…” – Clyde buried his face in his flesh hand and dropped his head in resignation and embarrassment.

“Okay, I think you can take it from here, Imma head out. Clyde, you can take the lady home when you’re done.” – Jimmy turned to you as you were examining his list. – “It’s been a pleasure. I for one am lookin’ forward to this!” – He concluded, picking up his stuff and heading for the door.

You were quiet for a moment, reading the eight points of his ten point list and giving each some consideration.

Clyde’s nerves and, frankly, nausea were rising and he felt like a kid, a pitiful little boy whose big brother was still able to make him feel so small and incompetent, worse yet, in front of someone who seemed to have potential to enrich his life. He wanted to rip the list from your hands and destroy it ten different ways.

“Please, please, get rid of that and forget you ever saw it, I’m--” – he started in his soft low voice and the underlying desperation tugged at your heartstrings.

You reached out a hand, placing it on the bar, close to his prosthetic without realizing. It was your nature to be tactile and comfortable with people you liked and you didn’t give a second thought to the sleek black device on his arm. You also figured you’d hear about it eventually. Clyde, however, was frozen, by your gesture and fear of how you’d react once your hand actually touched it at some point. - “No, this is good.” – you commented and he couldn’t stop the derisive noise that escaped his throat. – “I’m serious. These are great things to consider. I’ll be using this a lot.” – you nodded like you were working out the steps of a project in your head and Clyde’s heart plummeted from the high it had recently been on. Again, he was engulfed by the same dread he felt so often, of being insignificant, the second best brother, another nameless, faceless soldier, some one-handed bartender and now a broken toy for a kind stranger to fix to fill up her time.

You seemed kinder than that, but he longed to see emotion in your eyes when you talked to him – and thought about him – not crunching numbers. He busied himself with work as you sat lost in thought, gazing at the floor or into the distance, working the nail of your thumb or your index finger between your teeth. It made him think of your mouth and tongue way too much until the collar of his black undershirt started feeling tight around his damp neck.

Finally, you got up and walked over to the other side of the bar, where he had been serving someone else and was now cleaning up, unable to wait for him to come back. – “I think I got something. To get started. Tonight.” – you announced, feeling pretty excited.

You were leaning in across the bar conspiratorially and the slightest promise of your excitement to be around him and do something with him was enough to push away his previous darker thoughts. He put down what he was holding, slowly shifting weight on one side as he leaned down on his arms, spread either side of him. The languid movement gave you the opportunity to take him in and you wondered, not for the first time, how this exquisite man was single and if you would have the self-control not to do something really, _really_ stupid.

“So what do ya have in mind?” – he allowed himself to study your face, as it seemed acceptable; you were telling him about a plan and he should focus in on you.

“For now, just go about your night, forget I’m here.” – you instructed him, enjoying the feeling of his eyes moving over your hair and lips and eyes, and looking forward to unabashedly watching him tonight without worrying what he might think. As for what anyone else thought, you really didn’t care.

He shook his head with the tiniest smirk, looking down to steady himself. – “Easier said than done, darlin’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I am clinically unable to get to the point economically.


	3. Self-confidence (Nobody knows)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why am I like this?

A sharp ache flashed in your chest at the word darlin’. Never before had you found yourself charmed by a southern drawl or even pet names all that much, but it took exactly two seconds to become enamored with both. You took a moment to store the feeling and the unique blend of cheeky, but withdrawn on his face in a special place in your memory before grinning back at him – “I see my job’s gonna be easy here.”

As soon as your back was turned, looking for a place you could sit and observe Clyde and his patrons for the night, you replayed his voice in your head and bit your lips harder and harder as they struggled to split into a huge smile.

Clyde could feel the rush of adrenaline drain from his body as you walked away, feel the tension leave his muscles as his body braced for something terrible to happen after he called you… that. But you looked so pleased that his system was confused for a second before it decided he was not in danger. He didn’t know what you were planning, but he was not about to rock the boat. He had you in his bar and you didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon and that was enough for now.

*

You spent the evening shuffling through apps on your phone to give the impression you were busy and doing something and watching Clyde glide around the bar. There was something awkward about the way he moved, but not because he was clumsy or weak – that much was clear the moment you laid eyes on him – but likely because he felt trepidatious or self-conscious maneuvering around people. Also, he seemed to subconsciously try to make himself smaller around other men, men who were shorter and had to look up to meet his eye – something they probably disliked on some deep primal level. Maybe that was it. He was tall and broad, you couldn’t miss him; he was dark and handsome, as much as he seemed unaware of it; the least he could do was make himself a little withdrawn and awkward so as not to invite too much attention and possibly be ignored and left to move around freely.

When he wasn’t thinking, his natural posture returned to normal. Chest back and hips out, an obviously strong core casually supporting it all. You remembered reading this was a stance of confidence – exposing your organs and signaling you were not afraid of an attack. His posture was very reminiscent of military men you’d been around while accompanying your dad to various events. They all seemed to have steely focus, set faces and an outward calm and ease that beguiled their strength and training.

Holy shit. Clyde had been in the military. You were sure beyond a shadow of a doubt. Was that how…? Oh, no. Your heart lurched thinking where he might have been and what he must have suffered getting and recovering from his injury. The mothering instinct blared like a siren, wanting to somehow take care of him. But then you realized you could. That’s exactly what you could do.

*

The bar filled with many people and you were thankful for your isolated little spot where you could survey them all. Your plan to see how the female customers treated Clyde, if any of them seemed a little too interested and how he reacted to that.

And the ladies of Boone County did not disappoint. Before you could detect any flirting, you noticed they were all quite relaxed around him, obviously not dreading any inappropriate behavior. Of course, that was the baseline of civil society, but even the kindest people aren’t necessarily appreciated unanimously. However, you were yet to notice a single person be uncomfortable around Clyde.

One woman in particular caught your attention. She looked around Clyde’s age and she was having fun with a group at her table. You couldn’t exactly hear what she was telling Clyde, but other people seemed to just order what they wanted while she lingered and talked. Fair enough.

Later, you noticed her flipping her hair in that sexy cinematic way, much like most women do in the mirror when they dance and are feeling themselves, and do the old cross your arms under your chest and lean forward as you talk routine. It was all pretty standard stuff and you turned your attention to Clyde. Unsurprisingly, his eyes were trained on the drinks he was serving and his responses seemed minimal. Bless. Maybe he just didn’t like her. You indulged in watching him bend over and reach around for stuff, stretching his body in unique and enticing ways, when it occurred to you to maybe take a break from that and scan the room again. The woman was back at her table and you used the opportunity to motion Clyde over.

“But… she’s married.” – was his response after you laid out your conclusions. He whipped his head back from looking at their table, so it wouldn’t be too obvious you were talking about her and lowered his voice further. How it was even audible at this point was a miracle.

“So?” – you shrugged and Clyde furrowed his eyebrows at you, genuinely looking a little displeased at how easily you dismissed this fact. You cocked your head with an exasperated look. – “ _I’m_ not saying it doesn’t or it shouldn’t matter.” – you glanced behind him and sure enough, the lady was looking over, probably to see what was keeping Clyde so busy with you and for another reason too. – “But her eyes on your ass are.”

His brain shut down. As quick as someone turned off the light. You mentioning his… and that means you’ve checked out his… and you’re talking about it. Fuck.

“I… I don’t think I can talk about that. Here.” – or anywhere. He’ll pass out. You nodded, not wanting to push him too far too fast. 

You figured it’s best not to talk too much about it where his patrons might hear something, both about them and about the other topics you’d be discussing. – “I get it. I’m just saying, don’t turn your back on these foxes.” – you gave him the smallest, quickest wink and that was _not_ helping. A coil twisted in the pit of his stomach, blazing and entirely unwanted, and he panicked. He could _not_ get all hot and bothered right now and you could _not_ see – oh, Jesus Christ, what if you _saw_? He returned to the bar briskly and stepped into the little room in the back, immediately doubling over and breathing deep and hard, angrily chasing the sudden arousal from his blood. 

*

After he reemerged, Clyde looked tenser than before, less inclined to look in your direction. Your stomach twisted worrying you’d already said too much and maybe come across as some unscrupulous and empty-headed flirt. Well, you’d decided, there was nothing to do about that anymore, you may as well test the waters and try to talk to him for a bit. The first wave of guests who came around for some drinks and fun had been steadily dispersing and you expected the remaining ones were silent drinkers who did not much look forward to going home and they’d stick around until closing time. This generally meant less female company and gave you little to observe.

You came up to an empty corner of the bar and demurely leaned your chin on your intertwined fingers, waiting for him to notice you and hoping to look innocent. – “I’m sorry if I said something that offended you or that lady.” – you nodded over to the now empty table where the group had been.

“No, it’s not… You-You didn’t.” – Clyde wanted to explain himself somehow, but there was no way to even approach the truth of why he left so abruptly that he gave up.

His head was down and you had a feeling he was close to backing out again, so you offered – “Maybe the fact that she’s married… made you uncomfortable?”

He was feeling a lot of things and would have preferred not to talk about any of them, but the guilt over his little reaction to you earlier made him respond – “It’s happened a few times, I s’pose. Some angry drunks either accusin’ me of lookin’ at their girls or snappin’ at them and sayin’… jus’…” - he shook his head remembering some nasty things that were said and he refused to repeat them.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” – you reached out and patted his hand briefly before pulling back.

Clyde’s eyes stayed fixed on the spot you’d just touched. - “I jus’ can’t win. If I watch everyone too closely, I come off as crazy. If I ignore ‘em, somethin’ like that happens.”

You sympathized as it all made sense. An aggressive man _would_ have a wife who would fantasize about a gorgeous and sweet man like Clyde and that man _would_ be looking to pick a fight in a bar. Suddenly you felt bad for the woman who was making eyes at Clyde earlier, hoping that wasn’t her situation, and for Clyde for what he had to endure certain nights. – “It’s a little easier for us, usually the person flirting asks us out or for our number.”

Clyde huffed - “So what do I do?”

“My feeling is that you get better at managing it when you apply Occam’s razor.” – you wanted to slap yourself for the needlessly lofty way of putting it, but Clyde nodded, perhaps in recognition, and you didn’t want to be condescending even in your head about whether he knew about the principle or not. After all, you don’t need to be a student of philosophy to know some basic guidelines. But you decided to explain it some more anyway. – “If someone is paying attention to you and looking at you all…” - you sighed dramatically, fluttering your lashes – “…it’s probably because they like what they’re seeing.”

“Well, first off, nobody does that.” – Clyde deadpanned and you chuckled. He was kind of right. – “And second, I know whatcha mean, but the simplest explanation doesn’t always—“

You put your index finger in the air, parallel to his lips. – “See, right there? Stop. You just gotta accept people _will_ find you attractive. It’s not math, it doesn’t always have to make sense to you. It just happens.” – your finger moved from shushing him to pointing at him to command attention. As you finished, he brought his own index finger and connected it with yours for a moment, before pushing it down. His totally straight face paired with a silly gesture like that made you laugh, while also feeling emboldened that he _finally_ touched you of his own free will.

“I’m going to read that as resigned silence. I can w.. workwithat.” – you mumbled as turned away, a yawn escaping your throat. 

Clyde had been reveling in the knowledge you were close to him and playing a game of catching your eyes or stealing glimpses of you all night, already imagining that this could go on for many nights to come and he’d completely lost track of time. And it was his duty to take you home. He could kick himself. - “Alright, it’s gettin’ late and you look tired.” – you were about to protest, but what would be the point? You were tired and it was obvious, plus he was your ride. - “You don’t need to get all exhausted on my account.” – he couldn’t help adding, always somehow apologizing for his own existence. You felt immediate indignation at that and couldn’t wait until you started beating that out of him, as it were. He saw a plotting look in your eye, something very familiar to him given a lifetime of being around jimmy, and it filled him with equal parts angst and excitement. - “Listen, when you’re ready to go, jus’ lemme know and I’ll take ya. Earl can watch the bar while I’m gone.” – Clyde supplied before you could ask.

*

Clyde subtly and apologetically asked you to go out the door and he would leave through the back and join you in a moment, so that you wouldn’t draw too much attention leaving together. You weren’t exactly sure for whose benefit it was, but you went along. Jimmy’s truck was one of the few cars in the parking lot and you waited by the passenger door. It wasn’t a surprise that Clyde wouldn’t unlock it and just let you climb in; he opened the door for you wordlessly and you thanked him.

He was a little nervous driving you home for several reasons – you would be alone and sitting quite close and that made his head spin. But more than that, although he knew it was highly unlikely, he didn’t want to be stopped and get in trouble for his suspended license. He was in the process of having it reinstated, but it wasn’t finished yet. He couldn’t care less about the trouble he might get in, but being exposed like that in front of you and causing you inconvenience was terrible, and just his luck.

You took the lead when it came to conversation, sure that this was a taxing process for Clyde.

“So I have a question for you.” – you stated, pulling Clyde from his spiraling thoughts. – “Why do you think that woman was looking at you so hard tonight?”

M’arm. Cuz we know each other since high school and it’s morbidly amusing seeing him grow from a shy kid to… this. Cuz she thought it might be fun to fuck a bartender. – “I dunno, who knows..” – he sighed.

“That’s either a profound Socratic stance to take or… you’re playing dumb with me, just a little.” – you laughed to take sting off your accusation.

He glanced at you and then returned to looking at the road. – “Why’d ya say that?”

“Well, one of the reasons she might have been looking at you and wafting her pheromones your way is that you start any kind of relationship long before you ever talk.” – you threw your arm over the long seat and angled your body towards him. He was right there, you could smell his cologne and feel his body fill out the space next to you and you could watch him from quite close up as he had his eyes trained on the road. You wondered what he might do if you just climbed into his lap. Once the car was safely parked, of course.

“Sure.”- he answered noncommittally.

“I’m serious. I mean, I had an impression of you before we got to chatting.” – you shrugged.

“You did?” – he cast you a slightly worried look, not sure if he really wanted to know, but your tone didn’t imply anything too bad.

“I did.” – you held his eyes, interested to see how long it would take this overly dutiful sweetheart to snap his eyes back on the totally barren road for fear of causing a nigh impossible accident. You were delighted to find that it was way too long. – “Oh, he’s a curious man, isn’t he?” – you said to the air after he looked away and enjoyed the smile he tried to suppress. Realizing you finally had a bargaining chip, you continued – “And if you indulge me and try for me, maybe I’ll tell you. How’s that sound?” – you stuck out a hand as he pulled in in front of your little house.

“I won’t tell you today, of course.” – you clarified, holding his huge hand in yours as firmly as you could. – “I need to see some real hustle out of you first.” – you added.

Clyde was good at listening and following along, a lifetime of Jimmy and then the military meant that he could understand a plan and follow it and it gave him meaning and structure. However, if there was a compliment at the end of this conversation, he wanted it now.

His face fell slightly and you had to fight the urge to spill all the beans you had, anything, to brighten it up again. – “Come on. Don’t make this hard on me. I thought we were getting along. We’ll talk more about that. Tomorrow?” – you offered, feeling shy about asking to spend another consecutive day with him. The truth was you didn’t have much else better to do, in addition to wanting to strike when the iron was hot, or when the reserved bartender was flustered.

He agreed and this time, you allowed enough time as you fiddled with your seatbelt for Clyde to leave the truck and go over to your side. He opened the door and took the few steps to your doorstep as you hadn’t said goodnight to him when you exited the truck.

“Thank you for getting me home, this was fun.” – you shrugged, digging around for your keys and trying desperately not to think how this was straight out of every movie when the guy and girl awkwardly say goodbye at the door.

“Yeah, I dunno what I was expectin’, but this was a good time.” – Clyde confirmed. You scrutinized him for a beat or two too long and he wondered if there was something obvious he should do that he was missing.

“Well, how about you tell your face then?” – you teased and he just continued looking at you questioningly. – “Can I get a smile maybe?”

He huffed out another suppressed laugh, bowing his head for a moment to hide his tightly shut eyes. He would do whatever you asked, whatever you needed, like he had done for previous girlfriends – get blind drunk with you if you asked, fix up your goddamn house, fuck you till you couldn’t think straight – but be a guy with an easy charm and outward confidence like Jimmy, he just didn’t know how to. And that made him feel infinitely stupid, in front you, probably the smartest person he’s ever met.

“No?” – you pushed, coming to terms that this was a man too guarded and respectful for his own good and on whom subtle gestures of invitation were lost as he would presume he was not seeing what he was seeing. So instead of goading him out his little shell, you decided to plunge into it.

“Darlin’, I would, but--” – “Are you ticklish by any chance?” – you cut in with a smirk and before he could pull away, your fingers were running, crawling, teasing along his waist, in that sensitive bit where it tapers. He doubled over with laughter and you took the chance to tickle his neck.

Whether he was insanely ticklish or just touch deprived and your nails running anywhere along his skin lit up those dormant nerves, he was an absolute mess.

You took pity on him and let him recompose himself. He stood back up again, pressing his arms up against his sides, shuddering, but still smiling. – “Am I gonna have to do that every time?” – you asked, tilting your head, enjoying seeing him giddy like that.

“Oh, please don’t.” – he begged, twitching his head slightly, the last jolts of shock and pleasure twisting at his body.

“So how do we coax a smile out of this stony-faced man?” – you tapped your index finger over your lips, thinking out loud.

This was torture. Clyde felt like he needed to show some progress, like he did something tonight, but if he knew how, he would just do it.

Your face became serious, brows knitted. – “Do you know…what you call a person with no body and no nose?”

His brows similarly furrowed together at your nonsensical question and he shook his head barely noticeably in confusion.

“No-bo-dy-knows.” – you slowly enunciated the words and you looked at him expectantly, lips in a tight line, trying not to burst out laughing at the horrible dad joke.

He slowly relaxed his face and a smile of genuine amusement and warmth came over it. He almost rolled his eyes, but he was so touched you were trying this hard to make him feel good and help him.

“Alright, so just think about that whenever you need to politely smile and job done.” – you went on your tiptoes, feeling full of butterflies that you managed to make him smile without physical force. You were getting good at this.

Before he could comment, you opened your arms wide, inviting him for a hug and he felt another wave of panic. Of course he wanted to hold you as close and as long as he could, but is there is a big difference between wanting something so badly and being given the chance to do it.

Though his head was in his way, his body responded and he had taken a step towards you before he knew it. He bent slightly so you could wrap your arms around his neck and shoulder and he put his arms around your waist, careful not to touch you with his prosthesis, and rested his chin on your shoulder. He could finally fill his lungs with the scent of your shampoo and perfume and skin, and it was intoxicating. While his swam in this small bliss, he had a thought – that he could and most likely would fall for you faster and harder than he had for anybody before and he felt a cold sweat all over his body at the prospect.

“So then I’ll see you tomorrow?” – he nodded into your shoulder, too overwhelmed by his thoughts to speak, and you both unwrapped your arms from around each other. – “Have a good night.”

“You too, darlin’.”


	4. Self-confidence (A catch)

The next morning, you had to work hard to get Clyde out of your head long enough to focus on your calls with Bryan and other partners. Bryan always kept you abreast of things, even if you didn’t have any executive power, especially now, almost 600 miles away. In the next few weeks, your job mostly consisted of training the new employees and then supervising them as they get more independent and accustomed to your work process. Apart from that, you’d join in on meetings 'just to reassure everyone what a great idea you’d had and how well it was turning out'. You cautioned Bryan, as always, against counting his chickens before they were hatched, but he was too satisfied with his rapid growth to really take it to heart. And it was incredibly endearing, he was truly unstoppable.

You prepared your schedule for next week, talked to a few colleagues and friends, and caught up on your friend’s wedding plans – he was the son of a Greek diplomat who worked with your dad in Venezuela and he was marrying an acquaintance of yours, the daughter of a Canadian pilot. It was a convoluted mess and if you and Bryan, your plus one, were going to fly with your dad and his posse, you’d need to go through a vetting process because, of course, they wouldn’t let anyone into this event. And you were happy to see your dad and many people you were varying levels of close to over the years, but it was way too early to get this granular. Besides! You were busy, trying to teach a delicious hunk of man how desirable he is. Honestly. What the fuck was your life turning into?

Next up was setting up a tentative plan for said hunk of man and how to break through to him. You brainstormed a few things you felt like he needed to open up about and came up with some activities that would be both good for him and make him realize stuff about himself.

When you were fairly sure he’d had enough time to sleep and get ready for the day, you sent him a text to come pick you up on foot and wear comfortable clothes. Your plan was to drag him outside, into a bit of sunlight, as you expected he didn’t always get too much of it, to get that vitamin D and serotonin flowing. Additionally, you’d get to walk around and hike and get to know your surroundings better. Within an hour, you were off.

*

Clyde agreed that he could dedicate more time to himself and doing enjoyable things, like going out to hike and not just work and be on call when he is needed. He was relieved you were busy looking at the path and trees as you explained your reasoning for getting him outside and other facets of your plan because he felt actual tears welling up in his eyes – in gratitude for your effortless kindness and an overpowering desire to get more than just kindness out of you. He was able to blink and shake his head a few times to get it together again. You sustained an easy and comfortable chat about your surroundings, how gorgeous nature is and some anecdotes from your lives.

You eventually arrived at a clearing with some benches and tables, which were clearly old and worn, but well taken care of and decided to rest for a bit and talk some more.

“So my question du jour is – give me an example of someone who’s confident.” – you said as you rearranged your hair and clothes around you, feeling a little damp from tackling the last incline.

Clyde was doing the same, almost surreptitiously, as if it wasn’t totally normal. Without thinking too much, he didn’t need to, he fired back – “You.”

You threw your head back and laughed, genuinely not expecting that answer at all. Clyde gazed at all the sinews and the soft skin there stretch and move, your clavicles hollow out and chest fill with laughter. The slight exertion from before gave it almost a glowing sheen, looking velvety and dazzling in the soft light of the forest. It was all so… appealing. He wanted his hand on it, his face buried in it, nipping and sucking, the scratch of his beard making you squirm in his lap – thankfully, your words snapped him out of it and he remembered to look away – “Ok, first, we go find your missing contacts, you must have lost them on the trail somewhere…” – you joked and he shook his head, short and decisive. – “No, but seriously.”

“I am serious.”

You slumped over the table, head resting on your hand, almost lying across it so you would be able to catch his eyes even when he looked down. – “Tell me about somebody you know well.”

“Jimmy.” – Clyde answered just as fast as before and it wasn’t a surprise to you. The few interactions you had with the man left no room to doubt it; he was charming and easy to be around and went after what he wanted. So far, Clyde was two of those three things too, so you hoped you could get him up to three.

You heard stories about Jimmy’s childhood and teens, how he seemed fearless and always had friends around him, ready to follow his plans and revel in being well-liked and mischievous by association. He would get away with a lot, sometimes way too much, but he would also show good character and accept punishment when he did get caught out. Girls were crazy about him; how could they not be? With that face and swagger, coupled with NFL prospects, he was basically a local celebrity. Even after his injury and eventual divorce from his firecracker wife, he still had that essential quality of drawing people in and having faith in himself.

You were melting at the way he was describing his brother, the admiration and dedication, the respect he still showed to his ex-wife and sweetness at mentioning Sadie. – “It’s great to hear siblings talk so sweetly about each other. My best friend growing up had a sister and she smacked her in the face so hard for stealing her hair brush that she still has a deviated septum.” – you laugh-cringed at the memory as Clyde mulled over his suspicion that Jimmy had told you god knows what to get you to agree to his plan.

“Oh, there was plenty o’that too, don’t you think otherwise.” – he reassured you in his impassive way and the contrast between his demeanor and what he was implying was just so endearing.

“Oh, god, put a pin in that, I definitely want to hear more eventually.” – you shook your head, imagining a younger, sweeter, if that were even possible, Clyde bickering or getting into trouble with his brother and you hoped with all your heart those were happy memories for him.

“But tell me more about you. Why aren’t you the first person you think of when you think of confidence?” – you prodded, voice low, inching even closer to give him a sense of intimacy and privacy even though there wasn’t a soul around.

It took some convincing and reassurance, but Clyde eventually loosened his tongue, just a little. His stories about himself were much shorter and matter-of-fact – he did alright in school, was quiet compared to Jimmy, never chased the spotlight, figured he would enlist and serve his country since his family was going through a hard time and he didn’t see what use he was lying around, which is where is lost his hand, and now all he wants, all he really wants is peace; a quiet life knowing his family is okay. He barely mentioned what happened to him at that ill-fated day, which was fair enough, it must be hard to talk about, but there was so little of him and his thoughts or feelings on anything, like he was an afterthought.

His conclusion, in a roundabout way, was there was nothing really there to feel confident about. He hadn’t excelled in anything or created much in his life – which is where he took a sharp breath and stood up faster than you could imagine him moving. It was clear he was upset as he took a few steps away, rubbing his eyes and dragging his hand down his face, bringing it around to the back of his neck, rubbing soothing circles into it. You stood up after him immediately, but walked up very slowly, giving him a few moments to compose himself.

“This is so embarrassin’, I’m a grown man gettin’ all choked up here. M’sorry, I shouldn’t be talkin’ about…” – he shrugged, implying everything he had just told you, still turned away from to hide whatever dignity he may still have.

You wanted to hug him from behind and rock him back and forth as he clearly needed to be soothed, but you assumed, for someone this sensitive, it might set him off. After all, tenderness had the same effect on you when you were feeling vulnerable, so you settled on resting a hand on his left shoulder and running it down to his elbow, just above the metal arm, and back up.

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about, you’re living, breathing, _feeling_ person.” – you said, inching closer and wrapping your other arm around his as you gently coaxed him back to the bench. – “Come on, sit back down with me.” – you guided him back slowly, both arms wrapped around his one, head resting against his shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me all of that.” – you started when you were sitting back down, both on the same bench, him facing the table, you facing the forest. You rested your hand on the wrist of the black prosthetic and looked down at it as you continued, letting him look where he wanted in case he got overwhelmed. – “But here is my two cents, as someone who’s met you recently. You are a kind person who is well liked, running your own business and a veteran who functions well in society after his service, which is entirely too rare. You’re patient in dealing with others, respectful and smart. And funny.”

“Darlin’, stop. Please.” – he whispered, his hand back at his face, rubbing his temples.

“Why?” – you whispered back, almost whining.

“I can’t, I just can’t hear that, I can’t listen to…” – he rambled, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him. He did _not_ want your pity and what better way to get it than to be a weepy mess over his pathetic life.

You knew exactly what he was feeling. Most people, at least at some point, went through moments when they couldn’t quite have faith in themselves and see the good that other could see in them. And it was painful and frustrating to hear compliments and praise when you were so down on yourself. But ultimately, you’d always heal and get better and it was crucial to know that even at your lowest, there had been someone in your corner.

“Do you think I’m a liar?”

“No, course not. But you’re kind, you’re so nice and you prolly wanna make me feel good.”

“I mean, that’s true, I do. I want you to feel good because I like you. And why shouldn’t you feel good?”

He had no answer for that other than what he had said before, he had little to show for all his years on this earth. But even in his head, that sounded too self-pitying.

“Alright, why don’t we head back down?” – you gave his knee a little slap, hoping to energize him.

And there it was. He had fucked up. He was a mess, who had nothing to offer and you were finally aware of it, you’d want nothing to do with him anymore. You had told him all the things you wanted to talk about today and get him to do and he looked forward to all of it, but now you wanted to go back and get away from the dark clouds that always hung around him, that damn curse. – “Okay, lemme take you back to your house, don’t wancha to get lost.”

“Oh, you’re not taking me back to my place.” – you said in a way that left no room for discussion. That’s how much you didn’t want him around. – “You’re taking me back to yours.” – you said and a few seconds later, realized you weren’t hearing his shoes shuffling in the grass anymore.

Turning around, you saw him staring at you in confusion and you took a few quick steps back. – “I mean, please and thank you.” – you grinned. – “I’d like to do some recon, if that’s okay. Plus, we have a lot left to talk about. But I won’t push you like earlier anymore. For now.” – you explained, hoping he would be okay with your plan.

“Alright.” – he nodded eventually, thinking about whether his home was presentable. Thankfully, he didn’t have much junk lying around anyway and he kept it tidy most of the time, he didn’t like feeling like a slob.

*

He took you down a different trail which went closer to his trailer. On the way, he commented that so far, you knew a lot about him, but he didn’t know about you. So you told him about the various places you’d spent your early years, some mishaps at banquets and, eventually, after mentioning only your dad several times, that your mom had passed away years ago from pancreatic cancer. He could empathize, having lost his parents as well, and you agreed that, although these things never get better, over time you can remember loved ones with fondness and not just pain. Besides, she had been an incredible role model and lived more in her short years than many did in a century. You quickly veered off into stories about your friends and tried to reassure him that just because your upbringing was different, you went through the same growing pains and highs and lows.

After a while, you reached his home, which was nestled among rippling hillocks and lush foliage. It looked like something out a fairytale to you, a place where you could curl up in winter and have hot cocoa, watching puffy snowflakes fall outside a window or throw all your windows open on hot summer nights and listen to the nature lulling you to sleep.

“Here we are.” – Clyde announced, sounding less than thrilled with himself. – “S’not much, but I like the peace and quiet.” – he justified.

“This is gor-geous.” – you enunciated, spinning around a full 360 to take in all the surroundings.

“S’not bad.” – he agreed, joining you in surveying the rich nature.

“It’s a dream, Clyde.” – you insisted, thinking of what a luxury it is to have this kind of tranquility and privacy in a world that moves so fast and frantically. – “Few people get to live somewhere this beautiful and pristine. If they’re lucky, they endure cities and grime and noise and get to buy a vacation home in a place like this to enjoy for a few weeks. And that’s if they’re lucky.” – You rambled on, your memories now stirred and fresh; the places where grew up, often seeing real poverty and the effect it had on people and countries, so you never discussed it lightly nor took privilege as a given. Bryan good-naturedly joked that he could set you up in a five-story mansion over here if you wanted with how much less everything cost, but that didn’t really amuse you. It only made you more determined to make your team successful. – “Sorry, I don’t even know what I’m saying.” – you cut yourself off when you realized you were going on and on.

“I think you know very well what you’re sayin’, darlin’.” – he disagreed, quirking one side of his face in a somber smile. – “Let’s go in.” – he invited you, opening the door.

You crossed the porch and entered behind him. – “Shall I give you the grand tour?” – he offered, jokingly.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” – you smiled. He showed you kitchen and breakfast nook on the left and bathroom and bedrooms on the right. One of the bedrooms was empty now that Jimmy was gone.

“So my very audacious plan is to rummage around your place and get a sense of who you are and what you like.” – you played with your fingers, waiting for his reply.

“Where you wanna go first?” – he asked after a pause, acquiescing to things more easily than before.

“Your bedroom, please.” – pointing to two different doors for him to guide you to the correct one. He opened the door for you without speaking and let you in, lingering in the doorway.

You first saw the made bed, neat like in a hotel. – “You made your bed even though you didn’t know somebody would be coming in?” – you asked without thinking.

“Mhm, always do.” – he hummed, it was an old habit, reinforced by the military.

“I for sure don’t.” – you chuckled. – “Oof, that makes me sound like a slob.” – you laughed some more.

“Not at all.” – Clyde countered, looking at his feet, wondering how you look when you first wake up – if you hair messy, are you grumpy, what do you wear to bed.

There was a low bookcase by the door, and on it an alarm clock, a lamp and a box tissues - cool, say no more. In order not to think of Clyde did with those, you snapped your head in another direction to look around some more.

There were more bookcases on the other wall, full of books, some boxes, no doubt filled with mementos, photo albums… You made your way there and ran your fingers over the spines of a row of books. No dust on them either.

It felt intrusive and deeply intimate to peruse a person’s very private quarters like this. – “God, I feel so nervous.” – you confessed, turning to him. His snapped right up to look at you, it was a bit of surprise to hear you sound skittish. – “No one’s ever let me snoop around their house before.”

“S’not really snoopn’ if ya have my permission.” – he chuckled.

“You’re gonna get pedantic on me?” – you cocked your head at him before returning to the bookcase. You harbored a dislike for the newer glossier style of books now, as older editions were more muted and dignified. Even the quality of the paper felt nicer to hold and if his library was anything to go by, Clyde agreed. There were hardback and paperback editions of classics, collections of short stories, essays, poems, encyclopedias, etiquette guides, biographies…

You zeroed in on the section closest to his bedside table which seemed to get the most traffic, judging from several books leaning to one side where others were pulled out and more stacked on top. You found The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, The Decameron, Il Canzoniere by Petrarch, Doctor Zhivago, Wuthering Heights… You sat on the bed and picked up the small book on the bedside table, Song of Songs, the interpretation of Song of Solomon. It was laying open on one of the most romantic songs of the bunch.

_ The Bride’s Admiration _

_ The Bride _

_I am a rose of Sharon,_

_a lily of the valley._

_ The Bridegroom _

_Like a lily among the thorns_

_is my darling among the maidens._

_ The Bride _

_Like an apricot tree among the trees of the forest_

_is my beloved among the young men._

_I delight to sit in his shade,_

_and his fruit is sweet to my taste._

_He has brought me to the house of wine,_

_and his banner over me is love._

You allowed yourself ample time to read the poem slowly and let it course through you. There was something profound and powerful in knowing that even hundreds or thousands of years ago, people loved one another fiercely and had to sing and write in order not to burn away in the fire of their own feelings.

Clyde observed as you read, rapt, knowing what words your eyes were gliding over as he had read the poem dozens of times in the last two days, he knew it by heart.

You set the book back down carefully where it had been before and sighed before getting up.

“This is a sign, Clyde.” – you said as you came up to him, putting a hand on his arm and nudging him towards the living room area.

“What is?” – he asked as he walked over and sat on one end of the couch.

“You’re a romantic.” – you smiled, biting your lip so as not to fully grin in his face. He had to swallow down the lump in his throat from the way you were looking at him, like he hung the Moon or something. – “And that is. So. Beautiful. Don’t ever stop.”

He was quiet, thinking about what you said. You let him think it over for a moment as he wasn’t shaking his head or looking displeased. – “Besides, do you know how crazy women go over romantic types?”

His face cracked into a shy smile, shaking his head a little.

“Oh my god, we want to eat you up. A sweet romantic guy who doesn’t think it’s a big deal he’s that way? Are you even real? It’s like a hot girl who doesn’t know she’s hot – so rare, so precious.” – you continued and he kept chuckling.

“Okay, so I know I said I won’t push you anymore today…” – you announced and his face instantly changed to that morose mask he often wore. He was just starting to feel like maybe you would forget his ridiculous display, but no such luck. – “But I’d like to hear you say five good things about yourself today.”

He sighed in defeat, sinking against the couch. – “I don’t know how ta do that. Anything else, please.”

“Sure you do.” – you patted his knee in support, not listening. – “You just talk.”

“There’s just, and I know yer gonna disagree, but there’s just nothing to say.”

“Alright, get up.” – you commanded, rather shortly, as you did the same. – “Now, come on.”

He joined you in standing and you told him get on the floor and do 20 jackknife crunches. – “It’s good for you, plus it’s classical conditioning: whenever I hear you talking disparagingly about yourself, you do these and over time, you’ll start catching yourself and you’ll stop. Or you’ll become Mr Universe and not be able to complain.”

You had to urge him to trust you and not to feel silly, although you smirked all the while and he was pointing that out.

Back on the couch, you took a different approach. – “Can you maybe tell me five good things about me?”

“Course. You’re charming, really nice, funny, so smart, you’re fascinatin’ to listen to, kind, so competent, you--”

“Alright, alright, alright.” – you put up your hands, feeling a blush coming on. – “That feels like way more than five. And we’ve known each other…” – you threw head back to think. – “Well, we could still express it in hours, that’s how short it is. Why is it so easy to rattle off this… lovely and flattering list about me, but when it comes to you, you purportedly have nothing?”

Because I can’t stop thinking about you. – “I dunno.” – he turned his head to look away, but you put your hand on the side of his face and made him keep looking at you.

“No, no, stay with me. Give me one thing or I’ll be horribly upset. What are you, Stalin? You think you’re worse than Stalin?” – you asked.

“No, m’not worse than Stalin.” – he whined and you laughed, feeling his face move against your palm, pulling into a smile.

“So first thing?”

“I love my family. I’d do anything for them.”- that wasn’t so difficult. He felt your thumb stroke approvingly along his cheekbone and it spurred him on. – “I don’t mind… improvin’. I know I’m not great—“

“Oh!” – you cut in. – “You wanna do 20 more?”

“Lemme finish!” – he snapped back playfully.

“Sorry.” – you put your hands up defensively, and he already missed feeling your palm against his face. But you set it on his knee in support and it calmed him.

“But I believe people can change for the better.” – he finished and you nodded. – “And I s’pose I’m adaptable.” – he shrugged, eyes subconsciously darting to his metal arm.

“That’s three already, you’re doing so well.” – you squeezed his knee excitedly and urged him on with your eyes.

“I can’t think of anythin’ else right now.” – he apologized.

“You’re a romantic.” – you offered and he scoffed a little, not too keen on the epithet. – “Should I go collect evidence from your room to prove my case?” – you asked, making to get up and caught your wrist.

“Alright, I’m a romantic, sheesh.” – he conceded, sliding his hand into yours. You wrapped your hand around his fingers, noting you could only fit three of them in your palm.

“And you’re a catch.” – you told him stroking his fingers before tugging at him to get up and dragging him into the bathroom to stand in front of a mirror.

“Oh, gawd, not this.” – he whined, figuring what you meant to do.

“Yes this, come on.” – you made him stand and look at himself, holding his sides firmly and peering over his shoulder. – “I’ve got all night, buddy. I just want one ‘I’m a catch’ out of you and we’ll be done.”

Clyde was getting wise to the fact you were a stubborn li’l lady by now, so he huffed and muttered ‘I’m a catch’ looking somewhere at the ceiling.

“I’m tough, but fair. You said it. And you’re done.” – you couldn’t resist a split second tickle and felt him spasm in your arms. It was delightful. – “Come on, I’m buying us lunch.”

“No, I can’t accept that, lemme take ya out.” – Clyde protested like you knew he would.

“Uh-uh, I offered first.”

“But it don’t feel right to--”

“Oh, yeah? It also doesn’t feel right to break a case in your bar and forget it happened, but that’s life. Get moving, you gotta lead the way.” – you grinned as you stepped out, hearing his disgruntled feet following.


	5. Self-confidence (Area 51)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought ‘Self-confidence’ would be one ~5k word chapter. Ha. K, me.  
> We’re finally moving on, everybody!
> 
> Oh, yeah, I forgot when I first uploaded: I have one important question: how do we feel about reader being bi?  
> Not to reveal too much, but I have no problem with it and my plan was to introduce a casual same sex relationship for the reader, but I thought I’d check first and if a majority of people wouldn’t feel comfortable with that, I can tweak it 

*

Lunch went by easily; you had been reassuring Clyde he was making leaps and bounds just by going along with you and challenging himself.

You laid out your theory that a lot of the flirting he might see in his bar, be it directed at him or not, or done by single or taken people, is not that bad or serious. Sure, he could choose not to encourage it, but it could be the result of extraverted people just having a bit of fun or people caught up in difficult moments – or difficult lives – just creating some levity for a little while.

“For instance, I sometimes can’t help it. I find so many of my friends beautiful, and I couldn’t say if we became friends cuz I thought they were gorgeous or I find them gorgeous cuz I love them, but I kiss them and hug them and squeeze their little goodies and tell them they’re irresistible and it makes them feel so good and I just love it. ”

“But they’re yer friends, they’ll know the difference.”

“True, but I think there’s also people who do it to relative strangers as well; it’s a feel-good loop: I flirt with you a little cuz you’re cute, you get all flustered and shoot something back at me and we both get something out of it without raising the stakes too much.” – you could tell from his silence that Clyde wasn’t quite on board. – “But if you’re not that kind of person, that’s great too. I’m just saying don’t let it get to you too much – you can ignore it if you’re not feeling it and if you do flirt back, you’re not signing a marriage certificate.”

You were fast becoming a fan of his huffs because he usually said something adorable after them, so you were all ears as he found his words. – “I guess I’ve always been told not to waste a girl's, a woman’s time or string ‘er along. Or I just don’t want that to happen to me either.”

“Of course not, no one does. But getting attention from a tall, dark and handsome guy, trust me, that brightens our day. It’s not the most progressive thing to say, but it’s true.”

He knew willing himself not to blush only made it worse, so he scrambled for a comment to move the conversation along. – “I musta been talkin’ to the wrong people then.”

“You should definitely talk to the opposite sex - that’s how you get the right info. What the hell do my single girlfriends know about how men are thinking? And vice versa.” – you paused to let him take in your words and get his full attention before getting mock serious. – “I’m giving you the keys to the kingdom here. Welcome to Area 51.”

He chuckled at your use of language and was already looking forward to hearing you talk more and more and more… He didn’t really think you could change his mind and do whatever Jimmy thought you could when it came to him and women, but just to watch you and hear you talk was such a pleasure – it was so quiet in his life so much of the time. And when it wasn’t, it had been researching the family curse, listening to sad and bizarre stories that unnerved him, being shoved off by his siblings when he tried to share them, hearing about their problems… Not to mention his other bad memories, the fears and pains and losses that crept up on him when he did stay alone and quiet. Conversation with you had been filled with jokes and reassurances and hope and joy and he was enjoying them thoroughly.

*

Talking about your plans for next week and when you’d see each other again, you briefly mentioned that among other things, you needed to pick up some toiletries and small items and not being one to waste time, Clyde offered you could do that now as you were in the part of town with all the major stores. One thing led to another and you got onto to topic of decorating and homes and style and he confessed that was another thing he felt clueless about. Extolling the virtues of trying new things and adopting his maxim of not wasting time and opportunities, you grabbed him and dragged him into the men’s clothing section and started perusing.

You were busy checking out clothes and occasionally making jokes about some of the more outlandish items, asking if he would be willing to give them a try. He tried moving away from that section entirely or at least away from the offending item several times, but you always stopped him by wrapping an arm around his and curling into his side, coaxing him to relax and stay. He had become aware that you were steadfast and if he protested, he would get more rubs and caresses and reassurances out of you, which felt addictive to him, but he also struggled with not looking whiny and being off-putting.

It had been a while since he had walked around in public with a beautiful girl on his arm and could feel proud in such company, it felt like a dream. But not being able to just hold you and have you made his heart constrict in pain.

You’d selected a few things for him to try and to see him in different styles. Some of them were fitted and dressy and you thought they’d work well for other things you had planned to do with Clyde and some just to make him try on for a chuckle, to make it worth your time.

You realized most of the shirts you had picked out would not go well with his usual black crew neck undershirt, so you stopped him.

“For most of these”- you lifted the shirts in your arms – “That won’t work.” – you touched the fingers of you free hand to the top of the shirt. – “It doesn’t bother you?” – you ran your fingers gently along the hem as he tried with all his might not to let his chest heave. – “It’s not tight?”

Well, it was getting tighter by the second, he needed more air. In fact, it wasn’t the only--

“What you trying to hide in there?” – you joked, hooking your index finger inside his black shirt and pulling in back from his neck, standing on tiptoes to peer down.

“Nothin’.” – he whispered, jaw working furiously.

“Okay then, let’s get that off you for a second and try something else.” - you had your assortment of undershirts - tank top, V-neck, scoop neck - and pulled back the screen of the changing rooms for him to get in.

“I gotta try ‘em all on?” – Clyde asked, already tired and frustrated, thinking of maneuvering around and hoping his prosthetic hand doesn’t get in the way.

“Yes, that’s point.” – you closed the curtain behind him and poked in the first dress shirt you wanted to see on.

“Gawd, it’s always a struggle, ain’t it?”- a woman who looked to be a few years older than you was standing nearby, also holding a few items for her husband who was changing.

You nodded emphatically. She was buttoning and straightening out some items in her ‘no’ pile, looking done with this whole thing. – “Oh, yeah. We’re just getting started.” – you pointed between the curtain and yourself.

“Well, good luck. I’m almos’ done with this one, I couldn’t take much more o’this.”- she rolled her eyes with a smile and you laughed in sympathy.

“That’s me and you both. Ya think I been enjoyin’ myself over here?”- her husband chimed in with a little frustration, but no real anger in his voice. - “This is a no.” – he poked out a shirt and she barely had enough time to grab it before he let it go and went back to redressing.

“Lemme see it on first!” – she protested, looking at the shirt up and down, deliberating on whether or not to insist he put in back on.

“No.” – he replied curtly and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, we ain’t tryna be difficult, we just don’t like this very much.” – to your surprise, Clyde piped up and joined this little conversation.

“We know, Jesus.” – “Yeah, whatever.” – you and the woman replied in unison, throwing each other exasperated looks.

“And they say _women_ can’t take a joke.” – you leaned in and almost whispered to your commiserator.

“I know!” – she nodded and placed a hand on your shoulder as if to share something very sensitive. – “Every single time we have somethin’ comin’ up--” – she started, but you had been hearing little huffs and groans and then a defeated ‘no’ from inside Clyde’s changing room. She seemed to hear it too and assuming you were close enough that it wouldn’t be a problem, she motioned for you to enter. – “You go on now, honey, y’know how they get.”

Unless you were willing to explain your strange little arrangement, you had to push forward with her misapprehension. So you sidled up to the curtain and quietly asked if everything was alright.

“Um. Yeah.” – that was a no.

“Do you want to come out?”

“Not. Really.”

“Can I come in?”

Pause.

“Sure.”

You found him in a tank top and a shirt over his shoulders, one button in the middle halfway done, barely holding anything closed. You didn’t have much time to take in the sight as he really looked distressed. You felt like the biggest, most insensitive idiot when you realized the shirt had those tiny buttons and tight annoying button holes that took you, with two hands and long nails, forever to close.

Clyde was reaching the end of his tether in terms of looking foolish and vulnerable in front of you, wondering if he would scream or tear up first. You were trying to think of what to say that wasn’t “I’m sorry” as that was often just interpreted as “I feel sorry for you”.

“I hate this. M’sorry, I never should’ve agreed to this, I knew what would happen.” – Clyde shook his head and started shrugging the shirt off his right shoulder before he could slowly peel it off his left.

You stopped him and closed the two sides of the shirt on his chest and smoothed it from his shoulders to his waist with your hands. - “Well, if you thought that I'd lend you a hand, then yeah, you were right, it is what’s gonna happen. And this is no big deal.” – you said as you started doing the buttons from the bottom so as not to skip any. You struggled on a few, both because they were tricky and being so close to Clyde felt like you were a little tipsy all the time. – “These are a real bitch.” – you commented about a particular button high on his chest and he grumbled in agreement. You could feel the vibrations on your hands and see Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. His skin struck you as beautiful-looking, but you decided to sit on that comment until it was appropriate to make – if ever.

“All. Right.” – you smiled as you finished up and booped the tip of his nose with your index finger. – “Let’s see what we have here.”

You took his hand and dragged him out of the changing room, his head hanging down. He wasn’t the biggest fan of looking at himself in the mirror, especially in public. You were standing behind him, just like you did back in his home, in the bathroom, hands on his sides, smoothing out the shirt and checking it fit correctly in key areas. He was trying to focus on other things than your hands roaming his body and glanced to the side. There, he assumed, was the woman you had been talking to and her husband, engaged in similar activity. She was inspecting how some pants looked and fit on him, and he was looking bored, ready to accept anything and just pack up and go. It snapped him out of feeling embarrassed about his arm and you having to button his shirt up for him, and filled him with warmth at the thought that he could have something like that. One day. Hopefully soon.

“Oh, wow.” – you were done fussing with the shirt and stepped back to take in the sight. – “This is great, you need this in your life.”

The shirt was something that Joe Bang might wear, fitted and rolled up to show off his muscles and shape. That was typically not what Clyde would go for, but even he recognized it made him look snazzier.

“Alright, sure.” – he nodded once and headed back to change.

“Hold on.” – you stopped him by getting in front of him. – “Do you like it?”

He really wanted to avoid another round of you getting him to give himself compliments, so he shrugged, looking up at the heavens for some help. – “Darlin’, you picked it out, you think I look nice in it, so I like it.”

You felt a grin and a desire to give him a bone crushing hug coming on, but you heard a muffled smack and instinctively looked in that direction, seeing your new temporary friend retrieve her hand from her husband’s backside. – “Why can’t you be nice like that?” – she muttered at him, but the close quarters really did not provide much privacy.

“S’coz I did my time when we were datin’.”- he shot back playfully and you had to suppress a snort with a hand over your face. – “’Sides, I have pants at home.”

“Just go change.” – she shook her head at him, but had half a smile on her face anyway.

Next up for Clyde was a plain gray shirt and a vest, just because you were curious how that would look on him.

While you were waiting for him to call you in to help, the couple you had been chatting with on and off finished up, which was made clear by the husband thanking the good Lord and giving her a relieved smack on the lips. He left the area first, nodding at you politely.

“Ma’am.” – he greeted and his wife placed her hand again on you, this time on your arm as she passed by and whispered 'good luck' with a smile. You mouthed a thank you and reverted your attention back to Clyde.

“Can I see?” – you asked the curtain sweetly and Clyde let you in. He was tucking in the shirt as this one was easier to button up, with the vest hanging open. You stepped in and swiftly closed the buttons, already liking the look.

“I was right, this is great too.” – you said into the mirror, looking at his reflection up and down. – “The color is great on you and this looks really good” – you said, running your index fingers over his shoulders and along his sides to point out the lines – “because of your broad shoulders and see how your waist tapers. Gorgeous.” – you commented rather clinically, thinking purely of the lines and shapes. – “And this.” – you laid your hands flat on his waist and ran them towards his belly, to show how the vest ended in two V’s just above his belt buckle and fit exactly right, but he bucked into you, catching your right hand before you could.

“Sorry, I think I’m learnin’ that I’m real ticklish.” – he explained and you snapped back into the moment and remember he wasn’t a mannequin and maybe you were touching him a bit too much.

“I see. And are you gonna tell your girlfriend not to touch your sides too?”

“I might.”

“Too bad, I think she’ll be disappointed.”

*

The impromptu expedition ended with you getting some supplies and Clyde getting a few items you picked out for him. You didn’t want to pester him too much off the bat, but there were others things you wanted to see him in and make sure he had in his closet, so you hinted at the necessity to make further shopping trips in the future.

“I mean, I’ll do whatever ya like, but there aren’t a lotta special occasions in my life, so it probably won’t be anytime soon.” – he replied.

“I’m sure there are. And you never know what may come up.” – you retorted, thinking of New Year’s parties, weddings, anniversaries…

“I don’t think many galas will be lookin’ for one-armed bartenders to attend.” – he said in a tone that sounded like a joke as he made his way through the parking lot, but you didn’t like hearing him refer to himself that way. You took the bags from his hand and declared he owed you 20 jackknife crunches for a disparaging comment about himself.

“But… there’s people around.” – he leaned in to whisper as if you couldn’t see.

“Barely.” – you looked around and it was a very quiet Sunday afternoon with hardly any cars parked around. – “Either way, we _did_ agree on this and consistency is key to this mission I’m on.”

“And what’s that? Make me fall apart with embarrassment?” – he asked, dropping down on his backside and trying to find a position with as few pebbles digging into him.

“And then building you back up, stronger and happier than before.” – you added.

He sighed and got to it, doing several before he groaned, squirming and hearing crunching under him.

“Darlin’, this hurts.” – he complained, although he didn’t stop and you smiled sadly at yourself, thinking what a good metaphor this was for him.

“Well, good. That’s point. You think it doesn’t hurt the people who love you to hear you talk that way?” – the word 'love' was out of your mouth before you even thought about saying it. You knew it was way too early to be throwing that around and implicitly including yourself in that group, as did he, demonstrated by his stopping mid-crunch, feeling a jagged rock slide under him. – “Can you imagine how Jimmy feels when you throw out a comment like that?” – you pressed on, feeling your cheeks get hot and hoping they weren’t tomato red already. – “It hurts, Clyde. We don’t want you to think of yourself in that way.”

He sat up, leaning his forearms on his bent knees and looking at the gravel under his feet. There was a palpable guilt emanating from him and it was the last thing you wanted him to feel. You crouched down and gripped his shoulder, for balance and in reassurance. – “I don’t know what’s going on in your head and how you can possibly not see what we see.” – your hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck to gently squeeze and rub up and down as you spoke gently. His eyes closed and he had to focus hard not to groan; it gave him so much relief to listen to that tone of your voice and feel your hand drain the tension from him. The guilt was replaced by a sense of calm and something that you couldn’t consciously describe to yourself, but you felt he was open to you in way he wasn’t before, so you leaned in closer, pulling the side of his face into yours and kissing into the hairline on his temple, gentle and long, breathing fully in and out before leaning away. Clyde felt like he was floating.

Once you were back on your feet, he slowly opened his eyes again, relishing the remaining effect your touch had on him – his hair slightly tousled on one side where your fingers had run through it, and the spot where your warm lips had been now feeling comparatively colder exposed to the air and still so sensitive.

“Now finish up those crunches cuz I don’t joke around.” – you quipped and he couldn’t help the smile spreading on his lips.

* 

On your walk home, you started to feel more confident about getting the layout of the small town and being able to find your way around soon. Clyde was happy for you, but warned you earnestly and sternly not to go too far into the woods by yourself. After a little prodding, he explained it was easy to get lost, you might get spooked by animals or something, and eventually he hinted that ‘something’ meant there were unexplained phenomena and he would just feel better knowing you were taking good care of yourself. You were thinking about the horseshoe ring on his hand and his little comment which he was trying rather hard to dismiss and wondered if this long-suffering sweetheart was superstitious and how far that went.

“Thank you for seeing me home. And putting up with me all day.”

“My pleasure. And thank you for everything, your time, you kindness, your help. This has never been my forte, but I’ll try to do better.” – like before, he didn’t believe clothes and praise had the power to change him, but he didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

“Just one more thing I need to say.” – you paused before saying goodbye, wanting to make sure it was very clear to him - “I don’t think you need to change. Okay? Don’t ever think I’d want to change you. I like your clothes, you look respectful and kempt and just a little reserved and that’s very appealing.” – before he could protest and blush, you went on. – “And I like the way you talk, and walk, and joke, and treat people, and everything. Just everything. So don’t change. Just see yourself.”

He didn’t know want to say to that, but it wasn’t strictly necessary, his face told you everything you needed to know. You embraced again to say goodbye and he took the opportunity to fill up his lungs with the smell of your hair and skin and clothes; he wouldn’t see you for a few days and he needed to take a little piece with him.

He walked away at a brisk pace because, as much as he relished your company, he was too keyed up from being around you, all of your probing questions and compliments, your hands all over him, your lips on his skin, that he equally couldn’t wait to be away from you, alone in his bedroom, with his thoughts, racing and heady, at his leisure to indulge in them and what they did to him.


	6. Breaking the ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter that ran long xD
> 
> Thank you so much for your input and support - it's honestly embarrassing how much that motivates me :D  
> It makes me feel like I'm not just pouring words into the void. So a big thanks for your time and attention - especially to the guests who have commented as I don't get to thank you directly and individually <3
> 
> My question still stands - how do we feel about reader being bi? So far, we have some darlin's in favor :)

*

A few weeks rolled by like this – whatever moment you could steal away and see each other during the week, you would. However, that was limited as Clyde was essentially starting as you were finishing up with your team.

During the weekend, it was understood that was you/Clyde time, unless either of you had any pressing errands. Days were spent hiking, making Clyde do crunches if he acted up – he was getting better at avoiding this type of punishment, him asking questions that ranged from totally naïve to deeply philosophical and each left you gob smacked in different ways, and telling each other stories about yourself and others and their misadventures.

He was generally tight lipped about his past relationships, but you could gather bits and pieces and put it in into the grander context of his life and the people around him and you were getting a clearer picture of him. The picture was very favorable as far as you were concerned and it was not helping at all with your burgeoning crush. You had decided it was better to be honest with yourself, in your own mind at least, and acknowledge that yes, you would definitely light up all over around him, but hopefully you’d still be able to build him up and make him see the lovely person you were seeing. Whatever happened after that was gravy.

And you felt like it was time to start moving down the list.

*

You were at your place as it was only fair to allow Clyde the same opportunity to eventually snoop around your place and get even. He walked over as usual even though you’d invited him for a chat and lunch before he went off to work. He thought it would please you if he walked over as you were always trying not to drive if not necessary, preserving the environment and all that. Truth be told, he couldn’t see this sacrifice as significant in the grand scheme of things, but he kept that to himself since even making you a little more pleased with him made him exponentially happier.

“Hey, darlin’.” – he greeted you as he entered and you rushed into the room, wishing you had been there to open the door for him, but you were busy setting up in the kitchen.

Clyde didn’t mind, though, as you had a big run up and crashed into his arms with a satisfying thump. 

“Harder. Harder.” – you choked out as he squeezed his arms around you. You hadn’t seen each other since last Sunday and you had both genuinely missed each other. – “You know the deal.”

“If you can still breathe, s’not a proper hug.” – he laughed echoing your hug philosophy back at you. Impossibly, he crushed you even tighter, so much that you could comfortably pick your feet up and dangle them in the air.

“Huh, that was great!” – you exhaled hard after breathing in a deep lungful and letting your ribs expand again. – “I actually think I’m a little dizzy. So welcome, good to have you in my little home.”

“Thank you. Oh, before I forget, I got you this.” – he reached into his back pocket and produced something small wrapped in kraft paper.

“You what?” – you took it and it felt quite heavy for such a small thing.

“Well, I thought it could be a li’l housewarmin’ gift.” – he shrugged, knowing you would either find it really cute or entirely stupid.

It first looked like a little tiny metal wreath until you flipped it around and moved it a few different ways to inspect it, realizing it’s a bronzed horseshoe, embossed and stylized.

“No way!” – you squealed happily, pulling him into another excited hug. – “Does it go over the door?” – Clyde nodded and you started walking away to get the hammer and – “Oh, no, I don’t think I have any nails in the house.”

“That’s alright.” – he reached back into his pocket and produced seven little bronzed nails to match the horseshoe. You came back to examine the little things and rolled them around in his massive hand, pondering how much thought went into this. What a sweetheart, you could fucking kiss him.

He observed you being genuinely touched and excited by his gift and enjoyed the relief and affection for you flooding through him, when he felt your hand grab his face either side of his lips and squeeze gently, making his lips pucker. You sent a peck in the air and skipped off to look for the hammer. For a moment, he thought you might kiss him just like that, out of the blue, and it was his turn to feel dizzy.

*

You were out and had picked out a spot where the horseshoe would go and Clyde had an important question.

“Which way up do you want it?”

“Does it matter?”

“This way” – he started, pointing the heels up – “is for keeping good luck inside the home. And this way” – he flipped it the other way – “lets good luck flow in.”

“I never knew that, that’s lovely.” – you came up and flipped it around both ways, just thinking of what you preferred visually. – “Well, I’m living in a great place, working with really awesome people and I’m hanging out with the best guy I’ve ever met. I think I’d like it pointing up, so things stay this way.”

Clyde was leaning against the door and failing to suppress a smirk. After a few weeks of hardcore complimenting and punishment for deflecting those compliments, he couldn’t deny that he was getting accustomed to them and enjoying them more and more.

“Alright then. Would ya hold these for me, darlin’?” – he gave you the nails and started lining up the horseshoe to be perfectly in the middle above your door.

“With pleasure, handsome.” – you shot back. ‘Handsome’ was your next hurdle, you had called him that a few times recently, just because it was true, but also to keep pushing him and slowly plant it into his head. He would still always crack up or snort when you did, but he would keep his pretty mouth shut as that meant he could call you his darlin’ to his heart’s content.

“Do ya know the story about why horseshoes are lucky?” – he asked to sidestep responding to your nickname.

“Mmh, I think I recall something about the devil asking a blacksmith to forge him some, but they were too hot, so now the devil is afraid of them?”

“Yup, that’s one. There’s some others too.” – he muttered before removing the first nail from between his teeth once he was happy with the placement. – “There's one that says--”

He started talking, but you couldn’t resist messing with him and immediately placed another nail back between his lips. – “Ya want me ta shut up?”

“No, please, go on, I’d love to hear more.” – you grinned.

“I think ya just like makin’ everythin’ hard for me.” – he shook his head and you snorted at the double entendre before his eyes went wide.

“You bet your sweet little ass I do.” – you laughed and urged him to continue his story before he went furiously red.

“Well, another reason is that they’re made of iron, which supposedly wards off evil faeries. And witches too, they’re supposed to hate iron so much that they won’t even ride horses and that’s why they ride broomsticks.”

“Awesome. I’m amazed you got that all out with a mouth full of nail.” – you smiled and promised not to stick anymore in.

“And the number of holes is important. You need seven. Seven is a really magical number.” – Clyde continued, wrapped up in his own story. You’d discovered that he liked talking about fanciful things, whether it was literature, folktales or superstitions, he knew a lot about them and he was a natural storyteller, with a soothing voice and a careful choice of words. You could listen to him for hours.

“Seven continents, seven seas, seven days of the week?” – you offered and he nodded with a pleased look on his face.

“Seven colors in a rainbow. It’s really deeply ingrained in us too. When they ask people ta pick a number between 1 and 10, most of ‘em pick 7. It’s cuz it seems the most obscure. 1 and 10 are too extreme, so nobody picks those. Even numbers seem too recognizable and 5 is too obvious cuz it’s right in the middle. So that only leaves 3, 7 and 9. And 9 is too close to the end and 3 somehow seems too easy, so 7 feels like a more obscure choice.”

“Holy shit.” – you covered your mouth in surprise with your free hand because it felt like he was reading your mind.

“Right?” – he smirked at you to confirm.

“Right. Fuck.” – you laughed, feeling silly that some statistic just blew your mind.

“We can also easily remember seven random digits, but no more. The seven year itch. It goes on and on.” – he stopped himself, not wanting to bore you.

He had finished nailing in the horseshoe and took a step back to check if it looked alright. You joined him, wrapping your arms around his middle and resting your head on his shoulder. – “It’s great, I love it. Thank you so much.”

He kissed the top of your head in response, feeling so proud that he did something for you as well. There was also a tiny bit of primal satisfaction knowing that a little part of him was now always going to be in your home.

“So you wanna snoop around first or get right to lunch?” – you asked, pulling him inside by the hand.

“Snoop, I think.”

“Perfect, I just need ten minutes in the kitchen and you can get a head start.”

“Naw, I wanna help.” – he offered before realizing that he would feel more comfortable looking around your home alone, even if he had your permission.

“No dice, you just make yourself at home.”

*

Clyde felt like a proverbial kid in a candy store, finally being let into your home and getting to spend the day there with you. He wasn’t surprised to find books strewn all around, artwork dotted around your walls and cozy looking chairs and cushions, all mismatched, but somehow coming together.

Each wall seemed to have a different theme, one was abstract art, with drawings, posters or framed images all evoking strange emotions, one was filled with pictures of you and your friends and family and he liked seeing how your style changed over the years. The last wall he got to inspect before you joined him was full of postcards from around the world – he immediately recognized a few as St Paul’s Cathedral, the Eiffel Tower, the Trevi Fountain, Hagia Sophia…

“Did you get these from friends?” – he asked.

“Yeah. I have others too, but these I find the most beautiful of the bunch, so I keep them on my wall. Don’t tell anyone, though, I don’t wanna seem ungrateful.”

“And these?” – he pointed to another section where there were also pictures of places from around the world, but these were not paper postcards, but clearly printed photos.

“Those are just some places I find beautiful. Hopefully I’ll get to see them one day.”

There were pictures of the Parthenon in Athens, the Cologne Cathedral and Red Square, among others. 

“I’ve always wanted to see the Parthenon in person.” - Clyde mused.

“Yeah, that makes sense. You _would_ be a classical architecture kind of guy.” – you nodded.

“That is… honestly the strangest compliment I’ve heard yet. If it was a compliment at all.” – he frowned.

“It is. It’s tall and strong and dignified. Good choice.”

“And I guess you’d be more gothic?” – he pointed at the Cologne Cathedral and you hit his arm playfully.

“That's one of the most ostentatious, in-your-face edifices in the world!”

“It’s a compliment, I promise!” – he ducked, laughing at your gaping mouth and offended face. – “I thought you’d like it, seein’ yer pictures over there!” – he pointed to your cork board full of pictures and you knew there were some there from your short-lived goth phase.

“Real smooth, throwing my Robert Smith phase in my face.” – you gave him one last shove before making your way over to sit on your couch.

There were several boxes in the corner and some that you’ve already unpacked and were trying to find the right place for. Your dad had one of his storage units emptied now that you had your own place, so you had his record player and some records out, old photo albums of his family and you that you were looking at and left in piles, his journals, some suits and other clothing and artwork from local artists in the places where he had worked before.

Clyde picked up an album from the table and was leafing through it. - “Excuse the mess, this is my dad’s stuff, he had it sent over so I would hold it for him until he’s back in the States.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s been in Libya for a while.”

Clyde didn’t particularly like the sound of that. Libya wasn’t the safest of places to say the least and he suspected you would feel much better if he were closer to you or somewhere less volatile. He had had the bad fortune of being in similarly unsafe places and he wouldn’t do it again.

“It’s okay, I’ve had a lifetime to get used to it, it’s his job.” – you read his face and reassured him.

“You look alike.” – he commented after looking at some photos of you two.

“Wow. It’s a good thing we’re working on pick up lines today because you’re on an atrocious roll.” - you joked and he whimpered back, the only response that he could think of was to ask you to stop making fun of him as his tone was clearly a compliment.

“I’m kidding, you know I need to get in there and shake you up a bit. You’re absolutely right, we do look alike. I have his exact hairline and forehead, it’s identical. And I kind of picked up a lot of his mannerism too. You’ll see one day.” – you waved a hand instead of getting too far into it.

Clyde’s hands became sweaty at the prospect of meeting your dad and how that might play out; in what capacity they’d meet and what he would think of him spending time with his daughter. – “I kind of look like my mom. Out of the three of us, we’re the most similar. Jimmy is a copy of our dad, you can’t tell ‘em apart in pictures where they’re the same age. And Mellie looks like our grandma, she was beautiful. And I look like Ma. We have the same hair and the same eyes.”

You were looking at him and trying to imagine a woman with the same gorgeous hazel eyes and dark flowing locks and full lips like his, she sounded beautiful too. He was smiling in a haze, remembering his mom’s face and then turned to you, sharing a tender look for a few moments before you squeezed his hand and put the album away.

“So breaking the ice.” – you announced.

*

“Pick up lines suck. All the obvious bullshit, _you come here a lot, I lost my number, can I have yours_ , leads nowhere. What impressed me was when this guy came up and started describing what he saw on me and what he was thinking. Obviously not, _your ass gave me a semi_ \- don’t laugh, I’m serious - but my vibe. We were at a Halloween party and he talked about my crazy makeup, my dominatrix boots and stuff and he was so right about the modern witch thing I was rocking and what I was going for, I almost went out with him. But he was also a scumbag who was dating a friend. That’s a story for another day. My point is I never would have noticed him and he was not my type at all, but he really saw something in me and went after it and I remember it to this day.”

“Well, that’s not me.” – he shrugged, still thinking of the outfit you described. – “I don’t think I’d ever walk up to someone and tell ‘em how they look to me, that’s odd.”

You appreciated that he was so honest with you and he immediately explained what he was and was not into. It made him so easy to talk to. – “Then there was another guy once who just told me I seemed like such a lady. Meanwhile, he had just pulled me out of a mosh pit and I was chain smoking, trembling in his hoodie. Who knows what he was thinking. But that worked too, he was so gentlemanly and took care of me all night. If you think a girl looks sweet and you can’t take your eyes off her, then say so, that sounds more like you. You will never regret telling the truth, that I can guarantee. Because if she tells you suck your uncle’s cock, you’ll immediately know you were wrong. And if not, you’ll sweep her off her feet. You win either way.”

*

Lunch was soon ready and Clyde could not be removed from the kitchen or hindered from helping you, so you let him reach all the high places and set the table. Over lunch, he requested a respite from your pre-planned topics, as he often did, and asked you about your life and job and made sure everything was going okay. Luckily, it had been and Bryan even announced he’d like to drop by once he had some time off to meet everyone and to see you. Clyde was extra happy that you plans whenever he did visit included bringing him to the bar.

You shooed him away out of the kitchen to clean up and told him to snoop around for a bit or rest since he’d be working all night and he had already been out late the night before, drinking and catching up with Jimmy.

“Does this thing work?” – he asked, looking at your dad’s record player.

“Oh, man, I hope so, I haven’t checked.” – you replied, peering into the room.

The very first record on top of the stack was _My Sugar Is So Refined_ by Johnny Mercer and The Pied Pipers. He played it just as a test and you recognized what it was the instant it started playing.

_My sugar is so refined_

_She's one o' them high-class kind_

_She doesn't wear a hat, she wears a chapeau_

_She goes to see a cinema, but never a show_

_My sugar is so refined_

_She's got a real high-class mind_

_She never buys a dress, it's always a frock_

_She always winds her timepiece up, but never her clock_

Clyde was standing by the player, admiring the crisp sound of the vinyl and enjoying the sweet song.

_She says "tomahto" instead of "tomayto"_

_She says "potahto" instead of "potayto"_

_Well, you should see how she holds a cup of tea_

_Just two fingers while she sticks out three_

“This was my mom and dad’s song, it was the song they did their first dance to at their wedding.”

“Really?”

“That’s what I’m told.”

_My sugar is so refined_

_She's one o' them high-class kind_

_She never shares a kiss, she lets our lips unite_

_But, oh, it feels like kissin' and each kiss is dynamite_

_I wonder what she thinks of each time I hold her tight_

_Oh, she's so refined_

You rummaged through a box to find their wedding album and one specific picture while Clyde was thinking how it was a great song to dedicate to your loved one and he felt he could identify with how your father felt about your mother.

_My sugar is real refined_

_Got the finest kind of mind_

_She never eats a meal, she dines or sups_

_And dogs are little canine friends, they're never pups_

“Here is it is.” – you opened the page to a picture of them dancing with your mom’s head on your dad’s shoulder and you dad’s inscription under the picture _My sugar is so refined_ in careful cursive.

_She says "banahna" instead of "bananna"_

_She says "piahno" instead of "pianna"_

_And you should see how she sits on her settee_

_With cake and coffee balanced on one knee_

“Here comes my favorite verse, check it out and remember this was their first dance.” – you stood by him, looking at the wall and waiting for it.

_My sugar is so refined_

_She's one o' them high-class kind_

_She acts just like her name is Mrs Vanderloo_

_And though I love her, and we'll be married soon_

_I wonder what she'll do when we're on our honeymoon_

_Oh, she's so refined_

“Yeah, a little risqué, to be implying you’ll be fucking within hours to your elderly family members, but hey, that’s probably why I turned out this way.”

“Speakin’ of bad pick up lines…” – Clyde teased and your jaw dropped. His sense of humor still often caught you off guard, especially when it was such a contrast to his normally reserved, mild-mannered personality.

*

Clyde was finding your place, especially with all these incriminating pictures, too interesting to focus on talking about himself. He was rather enjoying you roasting your old looks and the way you were posing. He had confided that he struggled for a long time to grow out of his awkward phase – turned out the key was lifting weights and growing his hair out – especially since he still lived in same place where he went through that difficult adolescence and it felt like it was almost impossible to leave it behind.

“Jesus, I should hope not. Cuz look at this thing here. This little 15-year-old knock-off Gwen Stefani who thought ska was the height of musical achievement. This was an official event, Clyde!” – you pointed out and his laughter became silent as he was running out of air. – “This is one of the generals of the National Bolivarian Armed Forces of Venezuela. And I have pink hair.” – he was wiping tears at this point and you couldn’t get enough of him laughing.

“Or why I ever thought black flat ironed hair worked on me. My complexion looked like I was always in the middle of food poisoning.”

Once he caught his breath, he couldn’t help saying something nice. - “You’ve always been beautiful, stop.”

“That’s neither here nor there, I’m wearing a corset and four more layers in July. I needed my head checked.”

“Speakin’ of head, do ya have any painkillers? I’m really feelin’ that bender with Jimmy.” – Clyde rubbed his eyes, all the laughing was not helping his throbbing headache.

“Aw, poor baby.” – you ruffled his hair and he stretched across the couch as you searched for some pills and filled a glass of water.

Once he drank it, you put a cushion in your lap and invited him to lie down and relax a bit before you had to leave for the bar. You massaged his head a little to help him feel better faster, along his hairline, starting at the temples and in on the forehead, where the bridge of the nose meets the ridge of his eyebrows, at the base of the skull. When your fingers felt tired, you just continued stroking his hair. He picked up your free hand and gave it a quick kiss, resting it on his chest and murmuring a thank you.

*

He was basking in the pain being gone, as well as the magic of the rest of the day, the music, your cooking, the scratch of your nails against his scalp, his head in your lap – this was all he ever wanted. None of that going out, chasing after somebody, just someone to be with and feel wanted there. He could have sworn it was only a few seconds and then suddenly he was aware that a lot more time had passed. He snapped his eyes open, inhaling sharper than before and that caught your attention. You were just texting Jimmy that Clyde was busy and you’d be at the bar soon, that he should go ahead and open up.

“Did I… fall asleep?” – Clyde looked at you, feeling embarrassed for the first time in a while.

“I think you might have dozed off for a second. I didn’t want to disturb you. You have a long night ahead.” – you replied, one hand still buried in his hair.

He searched his head for something to say that wasn’t effectively a declaration of love and, finding nothing, he sat up and threw his head back to stretch his muscles.

“Why don’t you grab a quick shower to wake up while I make you some coffee? And then we can go?” – you ran your hand down his broad back and had to fight pretty hard against asking him to just stay over. He had no business being that well-built and _right_ there.

“But I don’t have anything here--”

“Yeah, you do.” – you got up and motioned him over to your bathroom where you pointed out a shelf with all male stuff. A big fluffy towel for him, a toiletry bag with everything he needed, even an extra bathrobe.

“And here’s your toothbrush. It’s pink so you can tell it apart from mine, which is green, cuz to hell with gender roles, right?”

“Right.” – he nodded, truly not expecting anything like this.

“And now since my dad’s dumped so much of his stuff over here, you can probably find some pajamas to borrow too when you stay over.”

This was another one of those days that he had been waiting for all week and wanted to pretend wouldn’t end. So he did as you suggested and decided not to break his own heart thinking of how he would feel for days without you, but luxuriate in the time you were spending together.

As he was drying off, he looked through your bottles of shampoos and conditioners and lotions, quickly opening one to check if that’s what your hair smelled like. It was and the scent was so concentrated in the bottle that chest his fluttered and gut twisted in that exquisite way it did when he thought of you. He committed the name to memory so he could later look for it and buy some to have in his home.

*

“That smells great.” – the thick, delicious smell of coffee instantly made him more alert and he couldn’t wait to have some.

The smell from the bathroom also hit you as he approached and it was such a crisp, typically male after-shower smell that you hadn’t experienced in a while now, it felt really exciting. – “Mmh, and you smell like… arctic frost and… glacial… riptide. Boy words, I dunno.” – you laughed at your attempt and Clyde thanked you, feeling himself blush.

“I spoke to Jimmy, he’s already at the bar with Sylvia.” – you informed him and he set the cup down after only one sip, already getting to his feet. – “Relax, have your coffee, he says he’s got it.”

He sat back down begrudgingly, rolling his eyes. - “Yeah, he says that to you; I’m never gonna live this down.”

“Live what down? Being late?”

“Ya don’t understand. He’s just waitin’ for me to flake out once so he can get back at me for a lifetime of naggin’ him about his own schemes and poorly laid plans.”

“Well, I’ll just tell him you fell asleep in my arms like a little baby bird and I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Gawd, you’re killin’ me.”


	7. Breaking the ice (Not a word to Jimmy)

The following weekend was the big night. Last Saturday, you went to the bar with Clyde to say hi to Jimmy and he told you he was seeing a huge change in his brother and he was amazed at the effect you were having on him. You were having your conversation in secret, only when Clyde was away doing something – when he was around, Jimmy would just tease him and you would stand up for him and tell him to stop, even though you were giggling throughout.

The big night was taking Clyde out to see how he does when he’s not on his home turf and dealing with women literally flocking to him, rather having to go up to them himself.

It was decided you would head to Lynchburg and make a weekend of it – hang out with Jimmy and Sylvie, see Sadie, go out and go back on Sunday evening. It was _not_ going to be at his bar, or anywhere close. He would go five states over just in case, if it were up to him, but with his rotten luck and very specific look, he still felt like he would stand out and look dumb. Still, he agreed.

You expected it would be a struggle to get Clyde to close down the bar on Friday and leave for the weekend, but he agreed without protest. You felt bad that they insisted to only leave after you finished work on Friday, especially since Clyde was missing an entire weekend of work, but he would not hear your whining, as he put it. He was adopting the same no-nonsense attitude you were trying to consistently use with him and to be perfectly honest, it was annoying to be on the receiving end of it. Hot and authoritative. Gonna give the toys in your nightstand a thrashing kind of annoying, but annoying nonetheless.

*

You rushed home after work, to double check you have everything packed and change. You were trying not to be nervous about the four hour drive with Clyde and then a full weekend of staying with his family. This wasn’t something you were used to.

The last guy you brought home and with whose family you regularly stayed was Marius, your ‘serious’ high school boyfriend, which now seems a contradiction in terms, but back then felt like be-all and end-all. Since then, you’d taken a far more laid back attitude to relationships, so this suddenly felt like quite a bit of pressure, although you knew everyone already and they liked you well enough.

Thankfully, Clyde was on time, a little early in fact, so you didn’t get much time to dwell on it. He was leaning against his car, one foot in front of the other and honked to signal he was there. You were happy your door was solid as that meant you could hide your heart eyes at how inviting he looked like that and breathe in and out to steady yourself before stepping outside.

“Hug first or shall I put yer bag in the trunk first?” - he offered, making his way over.

“Bag in trunk. You can crush my ribs, but there’s fragile stuff in the bag.” – you explained.

One bear hug and squeal later, you were feeling light-headed and gazing into each other’s eyes. This was happening more and more and you were getting worried you weren’t going to get far before succumbing. You were trying to stay out of each other’s way at the bar, so Clyde could work and you wouldn’t draw too much attention, but outside of that, you were like love-struck, horny middle-schoolers, holding hands, teasing, pinching, pushing - anything but what you _really_ wanted to do. That is why you were looking forward to getting Clyde out there, giving him a chance to find a girl and if he still kept behaving the same way towards you, just give in with, hopefully, no guilt.

“So I take it yer excited?” – he asked, hearing your squeal and seeing you smiling like the 4th of July.

“Oh, yes! First off, a road trip – my favorite. And then a whole weekend of fun! Let’s get to it!”

Once in the car, you produced a CD that you burned and Clyde did the same – you’d agreed to make a mix that was a good road trip soundtrack and it gave you both the opportunity to introduce each other to the kind of music you liked. You took turns playing songs and doing commentary on them – Clyde’s mix had stuff like Patsy Cline, John Denver and Bob Seger on it, things you rarely listened to, while yours featured Franz Ferdinand, Stromae and Hozier, whom Clyde particularly liked.

The time flew by and it was already midnight by the time you got there, said a quick hello and got ready for bed.

The next morning, you woke up to a huge breakfast and coffee waiting, Sadie running around the house, excited to see her uncle because she’s missed him last night and Clyde somehow sleeping through all of it in his room.

You were wearing a tank top and pajama bottoms, leaving your usual slip at home, but that still felt too revealing for a family breakfast, so you threw on a hoodie before saying good morning and heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Jimmy had not been lying when he told you the Logans were huggers and screamers cuz Sadie confirmed both upon seeing you, delivering a vice-like hug that would put Clyde’s to shame and announcing you had a lot to do today and she was so excited.

“There she is!” – Jimmy greeted enthusiastically when you joined him and Sylvie in the kitchen, hugging you with a bright smile. – “Black, no sugar, right?” – he offered a cup of coffee.

“Aw, you remembered.” - you thanked him.

“How did you sleep?” – Sylvie asked, setting up the table.

“Great, thanks! I don’t tend to have trouble seeping in new places.”

“I imagine, Jimmy told me you moved around a lot as a child.”

“Yeah, I--”

“I hate to interrupt--” - Jimmy cut in.

“No, you don’t.” – Sylvie cut right back.

“No, yer right, I like the attention. But we should get Clyde outta bed before Sadie brings down the house.”

“That’s true, we haven’t lived down being late last time.” – Sylvie agreed.

“Daaad, when are we leavin’?” – Sadie came in right on cue, having put on the bow hair ties which were one of the presents you got her.

“Oh, those look beautiful on you.” – you gushed.

“Thanks! Can you tie them for me?” – she grinned up at Sylvie who did it happily. It was so sweet to see them getting along so effortlessly.

“Now Sadie, why don’t you go and wake up uncle Clyde? It’s almost nine.” – Jimmy suggested and Sadie became visibly flustered at the mention of the time. – “Make sure to yell nice and loud so he hears ya.” – Jimmy called out after her.

“My god, you’re evil.” – you snorted.

“Y’know what, tomorrow you should go in there. I mean, he hates wakin’ up before noon and he won’t speak for two hours after gettin’ up, but I’d love to see what he does if you do it.” – Jimmy mused and Sylvie nodded, thinking that would be interesting to see.

“So he’s a grumpy boy in the morning?” – you asked and Jimmy pointed behind you.

“I mean, just take a look.”

Clyde shuffled out of the room, rubbing his bleary eyes with one hand, while Sadie hung onto his prosthetic one, which he put on quickly whenever he was in company, going on about how it starts at ten and they need to be there. He looked adorable in some basketball shorts and a faded shirt, not really awake yet, hair parted in several directions and all puffy eyes and pouting lips. He gave everyone a quick look instead of saying good morning and huffed before continuing his shuffle into the bathroom.

“Poor thing, he’s not a morning person, I gather.” – you commented, wanting to stop whatever was on Jimmy’s mind to say, as he looked between the two of you and that evil glint which Clyde always mentioned was beginning to show.

“He can be, but he’s changed since workin’ at the bar. And again, while on the subject of change, you been doin’ a bang up job with him.” - he smiled in a very genuine way, thankful to see his brother blossom.

“Well, that’s good to hear, I’m glad it’s showing.”

“Oh, it is, he’s just been full of beans ever since you started.” – Sylvie leaned in to say, wanting to make sure Clyde wouldn’t hear.

“I can’t wait to see what happens tonight.” – Jimmy rubbed his hands and gave Sylvie a quick kiss before leaving to fetch Sadie and keep her busy before you sat down to eat.

You spend the morning at Amazement Square, first hitting up the Open Art studio which ran from 10 to 1, and was the most important three hours of Sadie’s Saturdays, followed by a tour of bee colonies at the Bee in the know exhibit.

After lunch, you went to the Old City cemetery, which Sadie boned up on, wanting to impress her uncle and you, and acted as your guide, spitting facts like this was the oldest cemetery still in use at the state of Virginia and that 18-20,000 people were buried there. It was equal parts adorable and impressive, and you and Clyde made a pact to reciprocate by taking Sadie somewhere and teaching her about it the next time she came to visit, which she was delighted about.

Lastly, before you went home to relax a bit before your night out, you visited Percival’s Island, which was Clyde’s favorite place in Lynchburg and he always went there when he visited. You took pictures with Sadie hugging the trees which bore the sign “Please Do Hug the Trees” before Jimmy and Sylvie decided to give you some alone time and walked a different path for a bit. Clyde took you to see the bridge and you paused by the section which had a bunch of padlocks attached.

“Aww, it’s like Pont des Arts, these are love locks, right?” – you asked and he nodded. – “I’ve always loved these.”

“They’re very sweet. I do wonder if the people who put 'em there really stay together.” – he mused.

”Mh, that’s an interesting point.”

“Yeah, it’s one way to ruin the moment, sorry.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. This is a wonderful place, by the way.” - you wanted to make sure to point it out because he had given everyone the chance to go somewhere else, maybe more fun for Sadie or you, but you wouldn’t let him not go to his favorite place.

“Good. I was worried you might not---”

“I know, you worry too much.” – you leaned on the railing next to him and bumped his shoulder. He bumped yours back and you stayed resting against each other for a while. You were only now realizing how much touching went on between you two when you were alone, since you were actively trying to keep a distance and a platonic friendly demeanor so Sadie wouldn’t ask any tough questions and give Jimmy even more ammunition. On top of that, it worried you how much frustration that was causing you – having to be around him for a few hours and not get that cuddle-induced oxytocin hit. You wondered how long this would continue before you either had to stop being around each other altogether or you were tearing clothes from him in a feverish state.

“What’re ya thinkin’ about?” – he asked after you were quiet for too long.

“Um… Tonight. I’m thinking about going out and how it’s gonna go.” – you lied, praying that your lascivious thoughts were not detectable on your face.

“Yeah, me too, I guess.” – Clyde bit his lip, thinking of how strange it would be to go talk to women while you were out with him, it felt like cheating in a weird way.

*

The night eventually rolled by, Sadie was chatting with her usual babysitter and the rest of you were getting ready to go out.

Jimmy cleaned up just enough not to get scolded by Sylvie, Clyde’s job was made easy a few weeks ago when you took him shopping – he just wore the shirt you liked best and nice-fitting jeans. Sylvie was happy to be going out, so you convened and compared outfits and shoes and debated about what was dressy enough, but still comfortable, neither of you was looking to get blisters or have to suck in all night.

Finally, you both decided on dresses and you gave her a pretty winged eye look which she claimed to have always lacked the dexterity to pull off. Another pair of wings and a bold lip and you were ready yourself.

Sadie gave each of you compliments like a little motivational speaker and insisted on taking pictures too.

At the club, Jimmy wasted no time getting you three drinks while Sylvie had some mocktails in order to be able to get you all home.

While the first few drinks took effect, Clyde was commenting on the layout of the bar and what could be improved. As always, you found him a pleasure to listen to, but Jimmy soon got bored. He took Sylvie’s hand and said they were off to dance for a bit and that Clyde better not be sitting there when they come back.

“So…see anyone you like?” – you asked after you were alone.

He could just do it. He could say ‘you’ and spend the night kissing you and dancing and telling you of all the other times he was so close to doing the same thing and how much restraint it took to get this far. But his voice just left him. His tongue felt like it was made of lead and he just couldn’t. Because there was always that chance that you were just a friendly, flirty little vixen who simply wanted to build him up a bit and would never consider actually being with him. And it wasn’t the insecurities talking, it was true – you were just too damn good for him. Too smart, too interesting, too successful, too beautiful. It was presumptuous to even feel the way he did about you.

His eyes scanned the room behind you and he described the first lady he saw that seemed to be here without a man and looked alright to him. - ”Er, that redhead lady at the bar.” – he shrugged.

You turned around and pretended to rummage through your purse as you scanned her up and down. Long red locks, with long legs to match, she was texting someone with French tip manicured nails.

”Damn, Clyde.”- you turned around, with your face all scrunched up.

“What, ya don’t like her?”

“No! She’s fucking hot. So hot she makes you make that face” – you pointed to yourself - “The kind of hot that makes you ugly as you look at her.”

“Y’think she’s… too” – he stopped himself before saying ‘hot', he didn’t feel like doing crunches at this bar –“much.. fer me?”

“No, not at all, I’m saying…” - you growled in arousal, encouraging him for having good taste – “I just like a redhead, you’ll have to forgive me. Go get you some!” – you gave him an encouraging squeeze on the arm.

He huffed a smile and shook his head, knowing he would eventually have to get out there and talk to someone. – “Just… please, don’t look. I can’t-I hafta…”

“No worries, that’s a bit much, even for me.” – you smiled and fixed your eyes on the table in front of you, arranging glasses and napkins.

Soon, your stomach started twisting uncomfortably, thinking of that _gorgeous_ woman and imagining Clyde smiling at her, working that shy, brooding charm and her touching him, encouraging him to go further. You felt a scowl twist up your face and you had to purposely smooth it out. Your phone helped distract you for a while, but when many minutes passed and Clyde was not back yet, it became increasingly difficult not to turn around to see just what was happening with the pair. He was gone long enough for you to flag down a waiter, order a Long Island iced tea and be halfway to smashed out of your mind.

“Hey.” - he eventually appeared and sat opposite you, his eyebrows high on his face and a face like he had just witnessed something amazing. It’s the look you imagine boys make the first time they see boobs. And are told they can touch them.

“Hi.” – you beamed at him, very much feeling the combined effects of your drinks. – “How did it go?” – you asked, finding yourself inspecting his lips and cheeks for traces of lipstick with your heart in your throat.

“Great.” – he laughed and rubbed his face in relief. – “She was just leavin’, I caught her as she was makin’ plans to meet up with friends and get a cab home. So we talked until her friends came…and then until the cab came…and then until they honked for her to get in.” – he blushed.

“Wow!” - you cheered, but couldn’t find anything else to say, you just weren’t feeling any kind of joy. Mercifully, your face was stuck in a drunken smile, so it wasn’t too obvious.

“Yeah, I got her number, so I might call her next time I’m here.” – he shrugged.

“I’m so glad it went well!” - you covered up your fib with an enthusiastic tone. – “And she’s a knockout, nice pull.”

He exhaled deeply, blushing at your comment about her. – “Why do I have such a rush right now?”

“Oh, get ready. It’s only gonna get better from here.”

*

Once Jimmy heard about the hot redhead and was assured she was gone, he gripped Clyde around the neck and pulled him out of his chair in his exuberance.

Sylvie shook her head at them affectionately and gave you a quizzical look before smiling softly. It may have been women’s intuition or you were worse at faking excitement than you thought, but you promised yourself to keep it together better in the future.

You chatted together for another while before Sylvie said she’d like to step outside for a little bit, she wasn’t so good with loud, cramped spaces and wanted a bit of air.

“Don’t look now, but there’s a PYT behind you lookin’ like she wants ta break off a piece.” – Jimmy toasted to Clyde before taking Sylvie’s hand to lead her outside. - “Wanna come with?” – he offered to you.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll go fix my makeup. I might be out in a bit.” - you responded, collecting your stuff.

“I think that’s my cue.” – Clyde said, noticing a peculiar look on your face. – “You okay?”

“Yeah, no, perfect.” – you leaned in and motioned for him to get closer too. – “I think Jimmy is talking about the little girl in the blue dress.” – you smacked his shoulder lightly and walked as briskly as you could the bathrooms.

Once there, you could lock yourself in one of the stalls and be sure no one was gonna see you. That’s when the floodgates opened. The first burst came when you realized it might have been passive-aggressive to describe the girl as a _little girl_ , but she was younger than you and there may have been close to a decade between her and Clyde. But the second, fundamental thing that brought big, hot, crocodile tears to your eyes and made your stomach a vibrating, queasy mess was the fact that you _hated_ this. Somehow, you had not let yourself think too far ahead and thought you’d be much cooler about a bit of flirting – weren’t you the one who was always on Clyde’s case about how flirting wasn’t putting a ring on anyone’s finger? So why were you crying in a bathroom, literally sick to your stomach because some _little girl_ thought Clyde was cute?

“You’re a fucking idiot.” - you whispered, laugh-crying at yourself, trying to wipe your face without ruining your wing. That was the telltale sign of a jealous bathroom breakdown – the smeared wing – and you were damned if you were going to let it happen.

When you were reasonably sure you had it together and looked okay, you went back to your table and contemplated going out to join Jimmy and Sylvie. However, it occurred to you they might be enjoying the alone time and only offered for you to tag along out of courtesy, so you decided to first go back to your table and see if anyone was there.

You were there for a few minutes, actually dipping into your work email for something to do when a young man approached.

“Hi, can I join you?” – he asked politely, flashing a perfect row of teeth and some dimples that only made him look more youthful.

“Um, sure.“ – you scooted so he could put the chair he picked up next to you and sit. You shook his hand and gave him your name when he asked. You chatted for a bit and you learned he was out celebrating with friends as their rowing team had qualified for the regional championship.

“Isn’t that what college kids do?” - you asked suspiciously, eyeing his face.

“Yeah…” - he grinned at you like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar since he had claimed a minute ago he was out of school. – “Alright, so I’m a senior, I’m almost out.”

“Honey, I’m for sure too old for you.” – you shook your head, pondering quietly how younger men are generally unappealing to women, while men could happily be yucking it up with girls half their age.

“No, ya ain’t!” - he protested, before boldly grabbing your hand, holding it with one of his and stroking the back of it with the other. – “Besides, I don’t mind, you’re beautiful.”

“Well, actually I’m sort of here with someone.” - you gave him an apologetic look, realizing that this was one of those tenacious confident young guys who was shooting his shot for all it was worth. Telling that kind of man ‘no’ means ‘maybe, keep going’, so you hoped that the prospect of another pair of balls might turn him off.

“Like I said, I don’t mind. If you don’t.” – he tried lifting your hand to give it a kiss while giving you some serious bedroom eyes. Luckily, Clyde had reappeared and was looking at the scene with a dark look on his face.

“And there he is.” - you extended your free hand towards him and beckoned him over. He took it and you pulled him into your side. – “Let’s ask my baby if he minds… this.” - the hand the young man was holding was magically free all of a sudden and he was sizing Clyde up.

“Whatever _this_ is, m’pretty sure I do mind.” - Clyde gave him a stern look before looking down at you. Your head was resting rather intimately on his chest and he quickly realized what you were doing.

“Aww, that’s too bad. I guess it’s just you and me tonight.” - you cooed in your sultriest voice and threw your head back to look at Clyde, not resisting looking between his lips and eyes once or twice. In an instant, his mouth was on yours, and you were sure you would be flying out of your chair given how the earth moved beneath you. He had by far the softest, pillowiest lips you’d ever kissed, on man or woman. You gave yourself a moment to take in the impossible softness before deepening the kiss, but he pulled back a tiny bit, giving you the option to stop. You captured his lips back with yours and buried one hand in his hair, making sure he was not going anywhere, and hooked the other around his waist. The change in angle allowed him to cup your cheek and pull you in closer. You were busy nipping and sucking on his lower lip and were about to proceed to fully making out when a glass roughly set on your table made you both jerk away from each other.

“Are you serious?” – the girl in the blue dress from before was standing at your table, looking annoyed, but mostly dejected. Clyde gave her an open-mouthed look of shock, before remembering to try to wipe off your lipstick out of some strange sense of courtesy when he looked back at you. No need, it was kiss-proof. Before either of you could say anything – although, really, what could you say? – she walked off.

The two of you were left there and the moment was resolutely gone. The heat from it, annoyingly, was not; you could feel your cheeks were flushed and you had to focus on not letting your legs rub together. Embarrassed and turned on was a funny mix and you just wished you didn’t have to deal with it. There might have been a different way to diffuse the situation with that guy, but fuck it. Who knew it would end like this? You didn’t like that the poor girl saw you, though, she didn’t deserve to think that men were pigs who will be taken and still trying to pick up other women or just go around bars, picking up anybody, especially men like Clyde, that exuded such a lovely wholesomeness, but this was too much to try to explain.

Clyde was similarly lost in his own thoughts, now sitting down across from you, and you snapped him back into the moment. – “Not a word to Jimmy, right?” – you asked, offering a hand to shake on it.

He finally relaxed and laughed, taking your hand. – “Right.”


	8. Sheryl and Alexandra

Jimmy and Sylvie were back soon and that meant no real privacy for you Clyde for the rest of the night. Looks were exchanged and you silently agreed to skip over the details of what happened with blue dress girl and how it was a definite no-go, rather you presented it as another resounding success.

On the way back, the conversation flowed in a relaxed way, giving you a few opportunities to daydream (was it really daydreaming if it was the middle of the night?) and imagine what might have happened or be happening now if you had gone out alone. This had you fighting off smirks and grins and blushing.

Overall, it wasn’t the best thing to happen. Okay, who were you kidding, it was great! It was fucking amazing. But it wasn’t the best time. You still wanted to give Clyde time and space and let him run around a bit, as it were. Because you never really know a person, sometimes you don’t even know yourself. Sure, he might seem like a perfect gentleman and not one for casual hookups, but given the opportunity, attention, fun, sex – those things are intoxicating and you were already too invested to just be some girl he bangs once or a couple of times and moves on.

Regardless, you were looking forward to finally being alone together again, if for nothing else, then for the tingles and that tension in your chest that made it tough to breathe.

“This was so much fun, we gotta do it again soon!” - Sylvie whispered as the four of your said goodnight in the hallway, already heading to your respective bedrooms.

“Ya might not be sayin’ that in the mornin’, I reckon we’ll have pretty bad hangovers.” – Jimmy warned, casting her a loving look.

“Nah, just get lotsa sleep, have a hearty breakfast and I’ll mix us some drinks in the mornin’, we’ll be fine.” – Clyde waved him off, rubbing his eyes.

“Hair of the dog? That works?” – you asked, leaning against your doorframe.

“Sure does.” – He lifted his eyes to you and kept them on your own until everyone said goodnight and quietly dispersed. The soft, searching look you enjoyed from him made up for the conspicuous lack of ‘darlin’’ tacked on at the end.

*

You had woken up at some point, definitely feeling the adverse effects of the booze, but decided it was too early, probably your stupid body clock trying to wake you up early for work. After some more sleep and tossing around in bed, you became aware of soft noises of activity in the house, realizing at least some people were up. After a quick visit to the bathroom, you threw your hoodie back on for the family breakfast and joined them.

“There she is!” – Jimmy greeted you the same way as yesterday and it was almost embarrassing how such a small gesture was so cute and moving, since you lived alone and there was no one to even jokingly be excited to see you up.

“It’s almost ten?” – you were shocked, being more of an early bird, you hardly ever stayed in bed past eight. – “I can’t believe I slept in so late.” – another embarrassment to add was that Jimmy, Sylvie and Sadie were already dressed for the day, with only you Clyde still in pajamas. And even Clyde looked quite awake and alert. You felt like such a lightweight and that everyone was dealing with last night’s escapades so much better than you.

“I was always that kid at sleepovers who got up first.” – you commented absentmindedly.

“Me too!” – Sylvie yipped back.

“So it’s weird that everyone’s up before me and doing stuff.” – you continued as Clyde got up and handed you a cup of coffee and a drink he’d made for you. You mouthed a profoundly grateful thank you, eager to down both.

“Don’t you worry about that, you already accomplished a lot this mornin’.”- Jimmy teased.

“What do you mean?”

“You lost Sadie a bet. She said uncle Clyde would be the last to get up and I said you.”

“Well, your confidence in me is flattering. Sorry, Sadie.” – you gave a sing-song apology and she was quick to accept it and say it was okay. Moving your attention to Clyde, although most of it had already been on him anyway, you continued - “So wait, did I mess up or did you?” – you mused, moving his hair from the side of his face so he could look at you. This was basically the first contact he’s had with you since last night and the kiss and to say that he was dying for some was an understatement. Also, the gentle, nurturing gesture was always something that made him turn into a puddle, but especially now. He couldn’t wait till it was time to head back.

“Well, it takes two to tango, don’t it?” – Jimmy shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yup.” – you chirped, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

“Yup.” – Clyde echoed, nuzzling his cheek into your hand, unable to resist and unable to muster a fuck to give as to whether that would raise any eyebrows.

You stroked along his jaw before you could force yourself to stop the PDA and sat down to finally guzzle down life-giving coffee.

“So since Sylvie is all geared up to go out again, I think we should come over next weekend and you can throw a party or somethin’ and finally ask Sheryl out.” – Jimmy laid out another legendary plan and your felt gut twist uncomfortably, wondering if this is a jealous panic or you’re about to vomit. The surge of ice that soon spread from your core out gave you your answer, good old jealousy.

Clyde was staring at Jimmy, face inscrutable. You just really wished you weren’t there. It would likely make it easier for them to have this conversation and you would simply prefer not to hear it. Just the question being posed made you hate the name Sheryl. With a C or an S? Either way.

“Sheryl from my year?” – Sylvie asked, raising an eyebrow at Clyde.

He just moved his eyes in her direction, but still said nothing.

“The same one.” – Jimmy nodded, staring Clyde down, determined to get him to acquiesce.

“Small world.” – you forced out, feeling like you should encourage the conversation, but not able to feign any excitement at the prospect of Clyde starting a relationship.

“More like a small county, but yeah.” – Sylvie joked. – “She’s been through a lot, but she’s an angel.” – she added, for your sake, as she knew her best out of the three of them and this was the first you were hearing of her. – “She got married real young and then… it was bad, but thankfully, she managed to get out of it in time. Her ex-husband has since moved, also a good thing. So she doesn’t really date much as far as I know, and I don’t blame her, but I can see you two hittin’ it off.” – she concluded, smiling in Clyde’s direction.

“I been tellin’ him, Sheryl doesn’t go out much and she wouldn’t be in yer bar if there wasn’t a reason.” – Jimmy said with a serious face, one that communicated that they had argued over this in the past.

“Ya don’t just go out and see what happens with a girl like that, alright? She’s been through enough and she doesn’t need any more potential disappointments.” – Clyde spat back with more force than usually and your mouth fell slightly open. In the back of your mind, you were relieved Sadie had left the room to watch something on TV and didn’t see or hear this. You hadn’t talked much about the women in town he may be interested in, but that was fast coming up – in fact, it was right here in front of you – and you had a second reality check in 24 hours. Of course he doesn’t exist in some comfortable little vacuum with you where you go out hiking and listen to records and share hugs and hold hands – he is a man looking for a real partner to be there for him and he sees women around him and likes them or dislikes them, lusts after them, and you are not the only girl in the world. It had been too easy to forget that in the previous weeks. To hear him talk that way about someone else, a woman he has liked much longer than he’s ever known you and maybe the woman that ultimately compelled him to accept this arrangement with you. It felt like it finally burst some bubble you didn’t fully know you were in before this moment. It wasn’t a game and it wasn’t easy anymore.

“He’s right.” – you said to Jimmy, not trusting yourself to look at Clyde right now. – “And you’re right too.” – you added to appease him and get him to listen. – “It’s not an easy thing to get involved with or even proposition someone who, by the sound of it, has been through some bad moments.” – you glanced at Sylvie for confirmation and she nodded with a rather dark look on her face. – “But if anyone is equal to the task, it’s a thoughtful, caring person like Clyde.” - you finished, speaking to no one in particular, finally bringing your gaze to rest on the half-empty coffee mug in your hands.

“Alright then, three against one, it’s decided.” – Jimmy clapped his hands happily, getting up to fetch Sadie from the living room. – “Breakfast and then we’re off.”

*

The rest of the day was spent doing easy, slow and quiet activities, well-suited to a Sunday and three hungover zombies with a child.

A visit to a park, lunch out and some movies and board games at home until it was time to leave. You were a bit uneasy and frankly ashamed, but you didn’t feel like you could look at Clyde much all day. He had made the effort of being near you and seemed to want to get you away or at least look at you, but you just couldn’t. Maybe the hangover made you too weak and exhausted, as well as melodramatic, but some deep part of you felt like you were losing him, like you were losing your current closest friend and much more. But the irritating rational brain also wouldn’t shut up and was chastising you for even claiming him in that way and being selfish in your desires. It was a mess.

*

Finally, it came time to say goodbye for now and head back. It was a strange new feeling, actually not wanting to be alone with Clyde, not only because you were feeling hurt, but also because you didn’t want to hurt him.

Once in the car, after some silence and searching you brain, you started. "That was so much fun, thank you for bringing me along.” - you said honestly, for the most part, thinking that was a good route, to comment and go over the fun moments from the weekend and not have to address the palpable tension.

“Anytime.” – he said back, again leaving out his nickname for you, feeling it was not appropriate, like he doesn’t get to say it now.

After some reasonably light-hearted chatting, you fell into a silence that you were trying to convince yourself was comfortable and listened to the same road trip mix you had listened to before, Clyde opting to play your music to make sure it was to your liking.

At one point, he couldn’t take anymore, so he turned down the music and you sat in silence and relative darkness for a few moments, trees and lampposts whizzing by you.

You turned to look at him, knowing he wanted to speak, but he kept his eyes on the road.

“We never got a chance to talk about…what happened. At the club.” – he stated, eyebrows knitting. – “And maybe you think there’s no need, I understand it was to get that _boy_ off yer back, but I don’t do that lightly.”

You waited until the end of his sentence to jump in. – “No, of course, we should, we can talk about it.”

“I just…Hope you don’t mind. And that it doesn’t change--”

“No, no, not at all. I didn’t mind – on the contrary. I’m happy you were there and it was… really nice.” – you shrugged, trying to sound casual. - “I don’t lie, Clyde. I told you I wouldn’t lie to you and I told you I like you exactly as you are. And you’ve heard stories about my friends and I, it gets… out of hand sometimes, I guess. Plus, our whole deal….” – you pointed back and forth between you two – “It’s not typical, I don’t think there’s any rules.”

He sighed in relief. – “Good. Cuz I’ve never met anyone like you and I certainly never had a relationship like this before, it confuses me sometimes.”

“Good, me neither. And I also kind of… make it up as I go, I hope you’re getting something out of this.” – you had your first real laugh with him all day then and it felt like a weight had partially lifted.

“Darlin’, it’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” – he said so earnestly it made your heart ache.

“Shuut uup.” – you shoved him playfully, grinning from ear to ear.

You both felt like you couldn’t get too deeply into what happened and how it affected you moving forward as that would inevitably mean bringing up next week and Sheryl and what that means for everyone. So you managed to leave it alone and slide back into your usual banter and try to forget, at least for the next few hours.

*

When you arrived to your house, he carried your bag for you to your door, he wouldn’t have it any other way even if it was small and light.

“Thanks.” – you said as you took it and set it down. – “Have a good night.”

He smiled as he took a step closer and brushed your hair away from your shoulder, fingers snaking up the back of your head and gently holding a fistful of hair, just enough firmness in his grip to manipulate. Your heart rate kicked up instantly and you wrapped your arms around his waist as he pulled you in, pressing his lips into your forehead lovingly. You gripped his shirt tightly in both hands, willing yourself not to move and just let him do as much or as little as he wanted to. When he finally peeled his lips back and retrieved his hand, he placed it on your cheek and stroked along your cheekbone. – “Goodnight.”

*

It took you back to high school in a strange way – to be living for the weekend and consider Monday to Friday a gray area between two bursts of fun and joy and pleasure. However, it had become the same now. Everything was, mercifully, under control and going well, so work was not too difficult to deal with. Your dad was teasing that he might have some good news soon, which usually meant an extended visit, so you were calm in that respect too. All you needed to do was sort out you and Clyde.

*

Clyde had decided to be a good, easy-to-get-along-with man, such as he believed bettered the world, so he agreed to throw a party of sorts at the bar. It was too short notice to get a live band or do something big, but a trivia night seemed doable. Moreover, (and if you had told him a month ago this news would make him happy, he might to something untoward) he heard through the grapevine that Sheryl was out town for work, so that was one less thing to worry about.

He had decided.

He had finally mustered up the courage – and the kiss didn’t hurt either – to tell you how he feels and ask you out. Put an end to this, admittedly fun, but frustrating and tense charade you’d been having and see if you did feel anything remotely as strong as he did.

To that end, he filled the bar with all the things he knew you liked; fairy lights and your favorite snacks and the jukebox was teeming with your music. He wanted to do well and give you a fun night.

*

Friday rolled around and your team was excited to leave a week of intense work behind them and have a good time at Duck Tape.

You divided into two teams: yours was Quiz Chanandler Bong and the other was Can I Google it. When you arrived, you found Jimmy, Sylvie, Earl and some other people you were introduced to, forming the Whiskeypedia team. People seemed excited for the quiz, coming up with cute names like Alderaan places or Smartledore’s army.

The first round was general knowledge and Whiskeypedia and Can I Google it were in the lead. The second was math, which people didn’t like very much, but it did make the teams work together. After that, Quiz Chanandler Bong recovered and was in the lead. Next, just because it was a topic that appealed to Clyde, was alcohol trivia. Unsurprisingly, Whiskeypedia did well and tied with Quiz Chanandler Bong.

“Well, I guess we gotta do a speed round. The first team to get a two-point lead wins.” – Clyde explained and gave out two call bells.

“The average human body contains how many pints of blood?”

Sylvie rang the bell before your team could even groan. “Nine.”

“Well, of course Sylvie would know.” – you muttered, not really annoyed, but feeling unexpectedly competitive.

“What is the diameter of a standard dart board?”

“Are ya kiddin’ me?” – Jimmy threw his arms up as if the question was impossible. His team started wracking their brains, but Tucker from your team confidently rang in. – “17 and 3/4 inches.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment and Sally said - “That’s so specific it’s gotta be right.”

“It is.” - quizmaster Clyde confirmed and you all embraced Tucker.

“Other than water, what is the most consumed beverage in the world?”

Jimmy rang in. – “Beer!” – he joked, making the whole bar laugh and cheer, but Sylvie shoved him. – “Be serious!”

“Maybe coffee? ” – Sally offered.

“Yeah, that or tea, they drink a lot of it in Russia and Turkey and China…” – you added.

”But what about Starbucks?” – Tucker chimed in and you shrugged.

“Good point, go on, Sally.”

“Coffee?” - she more asked than said after ringing in.

“M’sorry, the answer is tea.” – Clyde responded.

“Sorry, boss.”

”Oh, hush.”

“It was illegal for women to wear what in 19th century Florence?”

“Are you for real right now?” – you challenged and he just nodded smugly.

“Short hair?” – Sylvie offered shrugging after consulting with her team.

“No, sorry.”

“Anal beads.” – you threw out, making the bar erupt in laughter.

“That’s yer answer?” – Clyde asked tilting his head.

“Uh huh.” – you shot back, making a show of crossing your fingers, hoping you were correct.

“It’s buttons.” – he rolled his eyes and the bar groaned in disappointment that you were wrong.

“Well, we were closer.” - you remarked.

“That’s not how the game works, darlin’.” – Clyde fired back, already busy looking at the next question. Most people just chuckled at your exchange, but there were some, like Sally, that started eyeing you two a bit differently.

“What color is the ‘black box’ in an airplane?”

Earl pounced on the bell with surprising agility. - “It’s orange.” – he said confidently as your entire team groaned, being marginally slower to ring in.

“That’s right. Ya need more point to win.” – Clyde reminded them.

“What was banned in the United States from 1912 to 2007?”

“Chilean sea bass?” – Jimmy offered before your team settled on an answer.

“Nope.”

“Absinthe.” – you answered rather confidently, knowing that your father and, frankly, you were looking forward to that specific ban being lifted.

“Yes!” – Clyde beamed at you.

“Well, course his missus would know.” – someone behind you made a joke that you didn’t quite hear, but it made Sally whip around and look for the source.

“Yer tied again.” - Clyde announced.

“Who was the only person in NBA history to be named Most Valuable Player, Coach of the Year, and Executive of the Year?”

Earl rang in again before the question was fully read out. - “Larry Bird.”

“Mhm, that’s right.” – Jimmy proclaimed even before Clyde.

“What is the land of the giants called in Gulliver’s Travels?”

In the split second that you took breaking down the syllables in your head as alcohol was starting to tie your tongue, Sylvie rang in and Clyde had to make a judgment as to who was first. After a pause, he asked – “Sylvie?”

“Brobdingnag.” – she chirped and he nodded as her team swarmed her and crushed her in hugs.

“It’s really not fair that the team my brother is on wins the first trivia night.” – Clyde pointed out, not so secretly rooting for you.

“If it makes you feel better, it was obviously mostly Sylvie’s doing.” – Jimmy grinned, giving her a quick kiss.

“Obviously.” – Clyde agreed. – “No offense, Earl.” – he added as the man got up and started making his way out to light a cigarette.

“None taken.”

*

It was already quite late when Mellie showed up, with Joe and some friends in tow.

They got their drinks and people filled them in on what happened before. Mellie, Jimmy, Joe and Sylvie knew each other, so despite their best efforts to include everyone, their conversation went places you couldn’t follow. After a while, some of Mellie’s friends who were playing pool wanted to dance and Alexandra, a cute young thing, called you over and asked you to look for some songs with her.

She was short and shapely, with her dark hair in a bun and full lips painted red. She was looking at the titles and gasped. – “Oh my goodness, I can’t believe what I’m seein’!” – she grabbed your wrist and excitedly pointed at No You Girls by Franz Ferdinand and you were surprised on two accounts; that the song was here at all, though you quickly surmised how it got there, having been on your road trip mix, and that Alexandra knew the song, as the only reason that you did was that you were in Europe when it was released and the band was touring.

“Oh, I love that song!” – you gushed.

“Me too, it was playin’ in a bar my first overnight ever, this is, my gosh, it’s a sign! We gotta dance!” – she played the song and dragged you to an empty area.

_Oh, kiss me_

_Flick your cigarette, then kiss me_

_Kiss me where your eye won't meet me_

_Meet me where your mind won't kiss me_

“What did you mean by your first overnight?” – you asked as she was swaying and deicing close enough to you to hear.

“Oh. I’m a flight attendant, honey, I thought ya knew!” – she laughed and touched your shoulder.

“Sorry, no. That’s lovely!” – you leaned in closer to respond.

“Oh, I just assume my reputation precedes me, the lesbian flight attendant that escaped Boone County, y’know? People talk.” – she winked and continued dancing.

_Flick your eyes and mine and then hit me_

_Hit me with your eyes so sweetly_

_Oh, you know, you know, you know, that yes I love_

_I mean, I'd love to get to know you_

Your eyes instinctively scanned the room for Clyde and you found him at the bar, watching you.

_Do you never wonder?_

_No, no, no_

_No, you girls never know_

_Oh no, you girls'll never know_

_No, you girls never know_

_How you make a boy feel_

With Alexandra’s example, as well as a generous amount of alcohol previously imbibed, you found yourself swaying, moving your hips and hair as alluringly as you could, aiming at that devastatingly handsome man whose eyes you were feeling on you and relishing.

A few songs later, you and Alexandra found yourself chatting as much you were dancing and she was lavishing you in compliments, from your hair, which she touched and flipped, your jeans, which she made you turn around and check out, bemoaning her height and how she wished she could pull off that style, to your lipstick, which she checked out several times. It had been a little while since you were hit on like that, especially by someone so pretty and effervescent, it took you by surprise just how much you were enjoying it. it was likely because it was just so simple – she liked you and you liked her and neither had any qualms about showing it; you didn’t feel compelled to consider her past, her traumas, her insecurities, nor wonder and decipher what she might want, it was clear what she wanted – to drink and dance and flirt, and she was a breath of fresh air.

*

“Hey.” – you flashed Clyde a smile when he managed to make his over to where you waiting at the bar.

“Hey, yerself.” – he smirked, handing you your order before you even made it, sparkling water, with a slice of lemon and some ice, as he learned after your first night at the bar.

“So we’ve uncovered some rather peculiar songs tonight.” – you grinned.

“Oh, I’m well aware, I’ve seen ya dancin’.” – he nodded, fixing his eyes on yours.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” – you all but confessed he was supposed to.

“Ya think ya wanna stick around until the place clears out a little?” – Clyde asked with that same searching look in his eyes he had last Sunday when he dropped you off.

“Sure.” – you agreed and let him get back to work.

*

“Hey, would ya come with me to the bathroom?” – Alexandra asked as you were making your way back to the table where your group was sitting.

“Yeah, okay.” – you responded and she took your hand, leading you through the crowd.

Once you were alone in the small corridor, just outside the doors, she turned around and stepped closer, biting her luscious lower lip. Although she was shorter than you, she managed to catch your lips in a quick kiss before you were 100% sure it was going to happen. You didn’t make a move towards nor away and she said – “If I’m readin’ this wrong, you just say the word.”

You let out your surprise and a little bit of tension in a laugh and shook your head no.

She grinned, revealing her perfect, brilliant teeth and wrapped her strong lean arms around your waist before kissing you again. You cupped her face and pulled her in closer, feeling her soft chest push into yours, hands rubbing along your back, your ass. You moaned as she grabbed right where your thigh ends and ass begins and she slipped her hot little tongue in your mouth.

On his way to get an extra dishcloth as someone had spilled something, Clyde passed by the corridor just as Alexandra was pushing one leg between yours and you were embracing her.


	9. TOW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So we’re entering The Other Woman (x2) portion of the story. It’s gonna be rough for a bit, but I believe in you. And Clydey boi is worth waiting for <3

The sight knocked the wind out of him, it felt a kick to gut before he ever made sense of what he was seeing. Mellie’s friend, he forgets the name, was kissing you fiercely, pushing and pulling into you, looking like a beautiful ravenous beast. And you were a picture of lust, eyes closed in ecstasy, your hair cascading and fingers tangling in it, working furiously to keep up with your partner. 

He stood paralyzed for a moment, every muscle painful and taut, distantly aware that if this continued long enough, he’d suffocate with the lack of air. It felt long, but in reality, it was only a split second before his body allowed him to move, but the pain was alive and _everywhere_. In a few quick strides, he backed away, traversing the bar quickly and disappearing off to his little room in the back, slamming the door behind him, but the noise was swallowed up in the clamor of the bar. His hands on his knees, doubled over and hyperventilating, he registered that he was in a panic of sorts. His throat closed up and his eyes stung, filling with tears. The image was back in front of him and he heaved, suddenly feeling violently sick. He had experienced similar attacks before, under far more duress, and he knew he was unlikely to actually be sick since he hadn’t been even when witnessing profoundly upsetting sights. And, a voice in his head that enjoyed hurting him piped up, the sight was in no way comparable to what had caused him panicked nausea years before. In fact, similar sights had brought him hours of pleasure and resplendent release in the past. Another heave and his knees wobbled, threatening to give way under him. He felt behind him with his flesh hand to find the door and slid down with a thump before the nausea gave way to more quick shallow breaths and hot tears stinging his eyes. He started breathing deeply and the tears subsided before they could spill out. A thought both comforted and stung him: you weren’t his, you were free to do what you wished and with whom you wished and so was he. Hadn’t that been the plan for tonight initially? To see Sheryl? Sweet, lovely Sheryl that he had liked so much before you showed up and turned his life upside down? And instead he was raging and hurting and panting on the floor like an idiot.

He took a few more steadying breaths once he was up on his feet and found that he was more composed than he expected. There is something about awful things happening, things you are afraid of or wish really hard wouldn’t happen, that makes you realize the world doesn’t end. They happen and maybe for a moment you feel like an asteroid is about to crush you into oblivion, but then… it doesn’t. He hated, absolutely hated, seeing someone do to you things he regularly dreamed of doing, but he was still here and he owed it to both you and himself not to be a wreck.

Back out at the bar, he poured himself a stiff drink and downed it in one go, people already signaling for his attention from several places.

“Where’d ya disappear off to?” – Jimmy asked a little surprised, as Clyde had appeared as swiftly as he had vanished.

“Nowhere, I got it.” – He replied, taking over filling up a pint that Jimmy was about to serve up.

“Oh… For a second I thought…” – Jimmy looked around before leaning in, as if he could create privacy in a crowded bar. – “ _She_ was gone for a bit too and now you both reappear, all flustered, I just got my hopes up that--”

“No.” – Clyde put down the pint more forcefully that normal, feeling boiling anger in his stomach and setting his jaw as hard as he could so as not to yell.

The hopeful and teasing smirk was gone and Jimmy stepped back, recognizing a dangerous level of anger when he saw it in his brother.

You were back at your table, saying goodnight to everyone and thanking them for the good time. Unbeknownst to Clyde, you broke off your kiss with Alexandra just as he turned away and left, managing not to see him, but thinking it may not be the most prudent thing if anyone saw, especially Clyde. You had no intention of hooking up with anyone that night – other than the ever-present faint chance of that being Clyde himself and it felt a bit awkward now. Acting hastily, you managed to put yourself in the position where Alexandra totally justifiably expected to spend the rest of her night, and maybe the rest of her stay, with you and Clyde could easily see you or assume something might be happening. The sting of Sheryl being brought up last weekend and Clyde’s tone when he spoke about her was suddenly fresh in your heart and thee was a petulant aspect of you rearing its ugly head – well, if he could like someone else, so could you. But still, the kiss meant no more to you than a bit of fun and titillation while the feelings for Clyde and consideration for him were far deeper.

You let him work for a bit, so that the crowd around the bar would dissipate somewhat before walking up and motioning him over, wanting him to step out so you could give him a proper goodbye and apologize for not staying and waiting. In the heat of the moment, when you broke the kiss, Alexandra asked to leave and go somewhere private and without thinking and feeling you had led her on a bit, you said yes, feeling too guilty to say no. So now you had to face the real guilt and awkwardness of letting Clyde down.

He agreed, looking glum even before you spoke to him and your heart sank, knowing you’re about to add to his apparently low mood. You grabbed his hand when you hit a denser part of the bar, weaving your way towards the door and were disheartened to feel it rest limply in yours instead of wrapping around it.

“I--” – you started as soon as the door was open, not realizing Earl was out, sitting in his usual spot, enjoying the warm night air. You stopped when you saw him, thinking that now you need to reword what you were about to say, but he waved a hand to reassure you.

“Don’t mind me.” – he gave his usual cool, satisfied smile and got up with a heave to take a short stroll as you talked.

“You’re a doll, Earl.” – you gushed as you stroked up and down Clyde’s upper arms, him standing with his arms crossed.

“No problem, sugar.” – he drawled, getting farther away, not minding giving you some privacy and thinking that it’d be fully worth it if he returned to find you all contorted around each other. 

Clyde chewed on his bottom lip, trying to feign apathy, while fighting a rather foreign impulse to recoil from you and your touch. He suspected where this was going and didn’t welcome any babying and soothing before you tell him you’ve chosen someone else over him.

“You’re in a bit of a mood, huh?” – you asked, moving a strand of hair away from his face, inviting him to look at you and not in the direction where Earl walked off.

“Tired, is all.” – he lied into the darkness before meeting your eyes.

You hummed in sympathy and laid your hands over his arms crossed under his broad chest and he let them fall down without wanting to. It was instinct at this point, to relent to you, to want to wrap around you.

“You work too much, I keep telling you need some help.” – you hugged him around the waist and spoke into his chin, trying to look at him as well.

He tucked his chin to get a better look at you and just nodded slightly, not able to think about anyone else at all with you so close. Whenever he towered over you and you held him in your arms like that, the world seemed to fall away. If you could just hold him like that forever, you felt like you would be content. And ever since your kiss, you knew _exactly_ what he felt like, how strong and gentle he was and how he made you feel. It felt nigh impossible to resist the impulse to kiss him again.

“Yeah, you always say yes and do nothing about it.” – you fought against yourself and took his nose between two fingers to shake his head from side to side, trying to get him to laugh. It worked inasmuch as his thoughts cleared and he was back to hearing you right and proper and not dreaming of either kissing you some more or telling you to leave him alone and go on, get that girl and go.

“It’s actually even better if you’re tired and not up for hanging out later; something’s come up and I have to go. I can’t get into it now, but” – you wanted to leave him on a good note – “I’m wide open tomorrow and we can hang out and do whatever you were thinking of tonight.”

Well, no, we really can’t. – “Sure, that’s fine.” – Clyde responded as neutrally as he could, feeling you grab at his shoulders and face in delight.

“Aw, perfect!” – you exclaimed, getting on your toes and pulling him down to leave a succession of excited kisses on his cheek, as he melted into a hug around you, managing to feel sad even as you squealed and squirmed lovingly in his arms.

*

Alexandra was waiting for you a little ways down the road, close to her friend’s house where her car was parked. You both agreed it was good that one of you left before the other and since Clyde was nowhere to be found and it was clear you wouldn’t be leaving without seeing him, she told you where to meet her and left. She was pacing, more than ready to get going already - how long did it take to say bye to a bartender, just say bye, see ya – but more than that, she was excited she’d finally met someone to her liking at home. She was very eager to get to know you better and have someone to hang out with, and more, when she got time off and visited home.

You finally appeared and her heart skipped a beat at seeing you. It was a great feeling, to feel that electricity, a spark, and nerves and attraction and undeniable chemistry. What a great night!

You gave her instructions how to get to yours and though you did flirt and kiss some more, you made it clear you weren't someone who tended to sleep with people hours after meeting them and it turned out Alexandra was much the same.

When you had worked yourself up so much that the next step was either to get naked or stop, you stopped, giggling and panting and had some drinks. The night was mostly spent telling each other the funniest anecdotes from your lives, as you always do with strangers you want to invite into your life, and being a flight attendant, she had some great ones.

Like the time she lost the game of not-it with her colleagues and had to be the one to pick up the blankets that she knew somebody had…finished onto. - “I was checking in on the passengers, it was a long haul flight and most of ‘em were fast asleep. But there was this…shlicking sound--”

"Nooo!" - you groaned, covering your face, thinking of how awkward that had to have been.

”Oh, yes." - she smoothed out your hair and pulled your hands down from your face, liking how your laughter sounded. - "And this little thing, disinterested as can be, was just lookin’ at her phone and playin’ the pink guitar” – you burst out laughing and so did she – “couldn’t care less and this guy next to ‘er, pretendin’ to sleep, but it he was sleepin’, I tell ya, he musta been dreamin’ o' something frightful or runnin’ a fever cuz he was squrmin’ and sweatin' up a storm. Anyway, I said to them, if I wanted to clean up after halfhearted hand-parties and handle crusty blankets, I woulda stayed home and got me a husband. But I did lose, so I just tossed that blanket in with all the other bio-hazard items, like stuff kids puked up or pooed on.”

“Now the job seems a lot less glamorous, you're a braver woman than I.”

“Thankfully, those are few and far between, but that was one day that had me wantin’ to crawl back to my mama.”

In the vein of embarrassing encounters, you told her how you met your first (and only) serious boyfriend, Marius. As you were leaving a gig with your friends, you decided to rest a little in a nearby park and get away from the crowd while you sobered up and could continue back home – you were too young to show up plastered in front of your dad, being several years underage for drinking as he reckoned, but you were playing by European rules and 16 was plenty old. You found a nice looking tree with flat ground and no debris around, and as you were sitting down and getting comfortable, a strange boy, roughly your age bounded up to you. He asked you in French if you could speak French and you said yes, hearing in his accent that it wasn’t his first language, but assuming it was the only other foreign language he spoke. He explained in broken French that you should not sit there and to go with him. You were a bit confused and not sure what he meant, but with some delicate wording and shy mimes, he managed to explain to you that drunkards and passers by used that tree to… relieve themselves and you jumped up so fast and hard you almost smashed into him. He helped brace you and took you to a safe, _dry_ spot, close to where his group of friends was. You felt disgusted and embarrassed and wary of taking off the jacket that was tied around your waist to inspect it for, well, piss. You shuddered as you untied it and Marius, as you would soon learn his name was, ducked around first to check your jacket and warn you not to look if it was stained. Thankfully, it wasn't and you both laughed in relief before he told you to breathe deeply and relax, as the crisis was averted. You thanked him and he seemed reluctant to let you go now, saying you should sit with him for a second and have a drink to steady yourself before you left. You said no to the drink as you wanted to sober up, but you accepted the cigarette he offered and lit for you with a well-practiced flourish of his Zippo lighter. It was the early 2000’s in France, everyone smoked, you justified. You talked for a bit until you mentioned you weren’t from France and you couldn’t keep up a conversation as well as you would like to. When Marius found out you could speak English, he chastised you in a cut-glass British accent he learned from his UK tutors about letting him embarrass himself in his third language for so long. You realized then that the reason he looked so familiar to you was because you must have seen him at some meeting or event – his dad was a diplomat from Germany and was working on similar things as your dad. Anyway, he was too chicken to ask you out that night because, as he put it, it was a long road from a piss tree to a date, but he made up for it the very next time you met.

“So you met your boyfriend as he savin’ you from the attack of a piss puddle?” - Alexandra summarized.

“Yup, pretty much. A three-year whirlwind romance sprung from a modest puddle.” – you raised your glass in jest.

“Here’s to love!” – she clinked her glass to yours and you fell into another fit of giggles.

As these 3am conversations normally do, you ended up talking about more serious life things, families, fears and desires - somehow, it was easier to loosen you tongue in the still and quiet, bolstered by booze, and it didn't seem so daunting as darkness pulled words from your very soul - and because the pool of the people you had in common was shallow, you ended up mentioning the Logans too. Alexandra told you a little more about how devastating it was to lose their mom, then Jimmy got injured, then after a while, Clyde. He, being himself, would never dwell too much on or weave you the sad tale as he felt like he was given a chance to be a better version of himself with you. But it didn't mean you weren't profoundly sympathetic or fiendishly curious.

Alexandra was friends with Mellie back then too and for a day or so, all they knew of Clyde was that a roadside mine blew up on their way to the airport and there were several injuries and even deaths. She had never before or since seen Mellie so distraught, she thought she might get sick from grief if the worst was true. You’ve never seen a family, or indeed a town, be so happy to hear their boy’s hand was blown off, everyone was counting their blessings. Everyone, that is, but Clyde, who became more morose than before, sure that one day the heavens would fall right on top of him, taking up with a troubled girl and only caring about the curse.

Your tears at the story told Alexandra that you were either a bleeding heart or felt something more for Clyde than a friendly attachment to a local bartender. After all, nursing unrequited crushes had been her bread and butter growing up, so it wasn’t too difficult to spot.

Although you invited her to stay over since it was late and you had been drinking, she assured you she would be fine and text you when she got home. You ended the evening with a noncommittal ‘see ya’ and a peck on the lips.

*

Next morning, you awoke much later than normal, the day already bright and hot. Soon enough, you had gotten ready, made a quick lunch and cleaned up a little and were ready, and eager, to see Clyde. It was noticeably later than he usually texted you on Sundays to let you know he was up and ready to meet you. It wasn’t unprecedented that you texted him first, especially when you both had stuff to do, but you were saddened to feel like it wasn’t as easy anymore to just pick up the phone and feel sure he’d be glad to hear from you. Your previous tremulous, keening tension was slowly getting replaced by an altogether different and more complex one. There were other people in your little world now and it wasn’t pleasant to think of moving aside and making room for more.

*

Clyde was receiving messages all night and morning, from all sorts of people telling him how fun last night had been and saying they can’t wait for the next trivia night or suggesting other things. Some of Sheryl’s friends have been among them, saying that they will definitely tell her she missed out and not to dare skip the next one. He had responded as tactfully as he could to those, but still expressing that he would be overjoyed to see her.

Two messages came in almost simultaneously, one from you and one from an unknown number.

_Hey, handsome, I’m ready when you are_ _:)_

and

_Hi, Clyde._

_My friends have been blowing up my phone all day about how much fun they had at Duck Tape. Now I feel ever worse I couldn’t make it. Count me in for the next one!_

_Sheryl_

He reread the message four times, only hearing his heart pound in his ears. _Sheryl_. He grinned, falling back against his couch and putting his hand, phone still in it, over his chest, feeling the hard thuds beneath it.

Not thinking too much about whether it was _cool_ or not to immediately respond, he got to typing.

_Hi, Sheryl._

_I’m glad they had a good time. I guess I better start planning the next event._

_Until then, would you want to go out tomorrow?_

He barely put his phone down before it pinged again.

_Sure, that would be nice! What did you have in mind?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, anyone got meet cute or embarrassing stories of how they met their SO?  
> Mine was above, I'd love to hear yours :D


	10. Start sharing

Sylvie was taking a shower and Jimmy joined Clyde for a bit before he left to go see you. Knowing his brooding brother like the back of his hand, he could tell something was up with him. It took some prodding, but Clyde finally did spill everything that happened last night, from his failed attempt to arrange the perfect night for you to what he saw before you left. It was a relief of sorts since he was so overwhelmed for so long and he really did need to let some of it out. He didn’t get a chance to get to Sheryl before Jimmy couldn’t be quiet anymore.

“A girl? A girl snatched _your_ girl away from ya? Right under yer nose?” – he grabbed two handfuls of his own hair in exasperation, staring at Clyde wide-eyed. Clyde cast his down to the ground, knowing that Jimmy wouldn’t listen to the fact that her being a girl was the least of his worries; it’s not like he didn’t know this about you. It’s that you were seemingly inexorably growing apart and that filled him with the worst sort of dread.

“And what’d you do? Just stand there, with a stupid look on yer face?” – unable to contain himself, Jimmy pushed Clyde’s shoulder in an accusatory way, feeling furious that he would ever take something like that lying down. – “Wave them goodbye, toss some rice?” – he kept getting in his face, desperate to get him to snap out of it.

“Jesus Christ, Jimmy, whaddaya want me to do?” – Clyde did finally back away, shoulders high and rigid, neck popping with veins, a ball of tension and frustration. - “Punch a girl’s light out? I can’t do nothin’ when she wants another _woman_.”

“Oh, yes, the fuck ya can.”- Jimmy barked back before smoothing his hair and beard, trying to regain some composure, but not lose this momentum with Clyde. – “Why ya wanna be with ‘er?”

Clyde eyed him warily for a moment, knowing that some lecture was coming from his brother, the person least indicated to be doling out wisdom, but masochistically, he did feel some curiosity as to how Jimmy sees you and your relationship. – “What do you mean?”- he asked with narrow eyes, since both of them knew the answer to that very well.

Jimmy leaned in, satisfied that Clyde was biting and enunciated. – “I mean, why. Ya wanna be. With her?” – his tone changed from challenging and sarcastic to brotherly by the end and Clyde’s defenses were down, praise for you always begging to spill from his lips.

“Well, cuz she’s great.” - he sighed. – “She’s a wonderful person—“

“She’s fuckin’ beautiful.” – Jimmy cut through the bullshit as he always did, also wanting to confront Clyde with how much he clearly desired you physically.

Instantly bristling, Clyde glared. – “Ya shut up about that.”- Jimmy braved his furious stare, happy to sit in this uncomfortable moment between potentially getting hit or hugged so that his brother might become aware of his jealousy and instinct to claim you and protect you. Once his jaw unlocked and infatuation made his eyes glaze over, Jimmy could exhale too. – “But yeah, she’s fuckin’ beautiful. And so fun.”

“Real smart.”- he added, just to keep Clyde going, sliding further into the hole he had dug.

“Yeah. She treats me…” – Clyde started, but had to stop as his throat closed up at his next thought and all the images it conjured in his head. – “Like nobody’s treated me before.”- he managed to finish quietly, returning to his previous, more morose mood of wanting you more than anything, but feeling like he’s losing the best thing he could have had.

Jimmy nodded, genuinely sympathetic as his thoughts went to Sylvie and what a blessing she’s been for him. – “Uh huh. And you?”

“Me what?” – Clyde looked back up at him, not liking the scrutiny being turned around.

“Whaddaya do fer her?” – it was Jimmy’s fair eyes that now narrowed on Clyde as he demanded for him to take a look at himself.

He opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t know what to say really, so he closed it back shut. Jimmy’s raised eyebrow dared him to say something and Clyde took silent offense at the implication that he didn’t treat you as best as he knew how. – “I’m good to—I try to be nice—“- he stuttered with hardly any confidence, trying to find the words to express that he is absolutely reverent of you, but always tries to be a gentleman.

Jimmy shook his head, thinking of what he had seen in these few months and especially the weekend you all spent together, aware that Clyde hardly knew what his stoic demeanor came across as. – “Ya mope around, givin’ her so much time and space she’s barely in the same galaxy as you. When yer at the bar, you basically ignore her instead of showin’ _everyone_ what she is to ya. When she compliments you, ya shut ‘er down. When she moons over ya, ya stare at the ground like a moron and blush to the tips of yer big ass ears. Y’know, s’no wonder she had to find someone else to give ‘er a proper—“

Lightning fast, a huge hand grabbed at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, painfully gripping a spot he didn’t even know was there and stopping him from finishing his thought. If he knew anything about his brother, this was it, he was about to get punched with a military-grade prosthetic and sport a shiner for the next few days. Clyde’s massive shoulder twitched again and Jimmy shut his eyes tight, hoping nothing gets broken. However, the punch never came and he felt himself slump down as Clyde let go of him and stalked out of the room.

“See ya around, Sylvie.” - Clyde called out, not wanting to be rude, leaving without giving his stupid brother another glance. His goddamn stupid brother who was absolutely right. Fuck him.

*

On his way to your usual hiking spot, Clyde was fuming, kicking around rocks and occasionally muttering to himself, sweating like a bastard under the increasingly hot sun.

What does he do for you? How dare he even ask? He fucking _walks_ everywhere because you don’t like to drive if not necessary. Even though he knows full well that _literally everyone else_ drives to get to the end of the street. He wears different undershirts now because you like those better. He lets his hair air-dry because you _once_ said it looks pretty that way and it makes you wanna touch it. He _doesn’t_ ogle you, as much as he can help it, because you’re so much more to him than your maddeningly alluring body. He doesn’t even let his fantasies of you get dirty when he can’t get you out of his head, laying in bed rock hard and out of his mind after spending many excruciating hours with you, hugging him, draping yourself over his lap, giving him smiles and kisses, cooking, licking your fingers, flipping your hair. He hangs on every word you say and would do anything for you. How fucking dare he?

But then again, he does play dumb. When you push him and try to provoke him, when he catches you staring at him in a way that he would almost bet his life was just as longing as he does at you, when you relax in his arms when he says goodbye to you and allow him to hold you or kiss you whichever way he wants, he shrugs it off, tries to pretend he doesn’t really see it. Because, of course, what if he’s wrong? And, god help him, what if he’s right? What would he do with you? Well, of course, he knows what he would do _immediately_ , but what after? How would he keep you happy? And interested? He could definitely provide for you in the way you deserved, but that also meant disclosing an awful secret that might make you despise him. After all, the daughter of a diplomat could hardly be married to a criminal. There he went, getting carried away again.

“Someone’s exceptionally serious this fine day.” – you greeted him, having arrived some time earlier.

He felt you nestle in close to him, finding all the nooks and crannies in his embrace so that he could crush in and around you, as close as if you were one body, and feel you practically buckle under him every time.

After the initial intensity of the hug, you would always burst into exhilarated laughter as your body could decompress and breathe again, and he would follow immediately after, feeling like he could float away on the sound of it. He smiled now with his eyes closed, after working himself up so much on the way over, grateful that your presence could calm him.

You spotted that he probably needed some soothing, so you wrapped your hands around his, stroking your fingers over the back of it. - “Really, what is it?” – you asked, wondering if he had overindulged as you had the previous night or if it was something more serious.

He pondered telling you about his date, too many negative emotions stirred up in him. He thought how you might duck your head down so he can’t see your eyes or frown and search for something vague and encouraging to say, like you had at Jimmy’s. Who knew, you might even find a way to throw your encounter from last night in his face. That might be the most satisfying of all, to see you furious and as needy for him as he was for you. The silence stretched on a bit and he could see concern looming in your eyes. That was enough to know that he could never deliberately say something to hurt you, it hurt too much to see you even a little distressed. He curled his fingers around one of your hands and brought it up to his lips, taking in the feel of your skin for a moment.

“Everything’s okay. I’m just eager to keep talkin‘ to you.”

“Okay then.” – you wanted to keep pressing for a more honest answer, suspecting that something else was on Clyde’s mind, but the tingle that ran from the spot he was kissing all around your body made you lose some of that resolve. – “The next thing is to… start sharing. You’ve breezed through the breaking the ice portion, so now when you take your lady out, she’ll be dying to learn more about you.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yeah. And some things are super fun and easy – what do you like to read, what’s your favorite movie, how do you see yourself in five years… But then there’s other stuff and that might not be so easy to talk about… Or maybe it will, but I never wanted to push you on that before.” – you wanted to give him some warning and the option to tell you that maybe there were things he didn’t want to share with you.

“Yer probably right. Will you ease me into it?” – he pushed you playfully with his shoulder, knowing it was futile to try to get away. Besides, you’d only done him good so far and he trusted you the way he did few other people.

“Of course, I’ll be really gentle and patient with you, I want you to have a good time.” – you tickled up his arm and he bit back a smile. – “So by now, you’ve picked out your lady, she delightedly said yes to seeing you and now you need to get to know each other better.” – you set the scene, starting up your preferred trail.

“So we’re on a first date right now?” – Clyde asked, pointing between the two of you, more direct than usually.

You took in a shaky breath, knowing you’d probably blush and just hoping your voice wouldn’t betray you and tremble. - “Uh, yeah. Yeah, pretty much.”

“Alright then.” – he nodded to himself, quick to slide into this roleplay. – “So what made you wanna go out with me?”

His sudden willingness to play along was such a departure from how he was when you first met him, it was a little disorienting. It was much easier back then, when you had to coax him into things and be sweet to him and empower him to be proud of the man he was. Now that he was much closer to that, so much closer to your dream scenario of him taking charge and being with you, you were faced with having to bare your soul more and admit things like finding him attractive and charming and it brought on a lot of anxiety. – “Hmm, let’s see. Well, if you remember, I was out camping with some friends. And we were having a grand old time until, all of a sudden one night, we felt a primordial kind of fear come over us.”

Clyde was looking at you intently out of the corner of his eye, letting you weave your tale, but not listening too closely, rather, he was enjoying the moment, taking you in, as well as your performance.

“My friend went to investigate and he saw a ghostly form, prostrate in the grass. Only it was no ghost, it was all too real. A great white-furred beast, almost eight feet tall, rising from the grass and making straight for us. It had massive horns, big clawed hands and a thick hairless tail. It was hideous.”

“Ah, yes, the dreaded Sheepsquatch.” – Clyde nodded, trying not to roll his eyes, but kind of glad that you remembered some of the cryptids he mentioned before.

“Yes, exactly! I knew you’d remember.” – you gripped his arm, still acting all riled up by the fake memory.

“How could I forget?” – he played along, but his voice was flat.

“I’m sure you couldn’t, after your daring rescue. You galloped in on your horse-- ”

“I have a horse in this fantasy of yours?”

“Shh, of course you do. Your long hair swept back by the wind, shirt open and billowing, you grabbed me just in the nick of time and we rode off to the safety of a nearby cave.”

“Mhm.” – he hummed, now biting lips to keep from laughing.

“And then came the downpour.”

“Of course it did.”

“And I was shivering in your big, strong arms--”

“Wait a minute, what about your friends?”

“Oh, who gives a shit about my imaginary friends!” – you waved his question off and he shrugged in agreement. – “Anyway, where was I?”

“I believe you were in my big, strong arms?” – Clyde prompted.

“Ah, yes. There I was, wondering if you’d make love to me right then and there, or if I’d have to buy you dinner first and get an earful of your life story before you put out.”

“And you know me, I don’t put out so easily.”

“No, you do not. So here we are.” – you concluded as you reached a flat spot on the trail and stopped for a moment.

Clyde regarded you for a bit and then looked down at the ground, clearly mulling something over. – “Ya know I cherish every word ya say.” – he started with such a genuine passion that it instantly made you tense up, still in your silly, make-believe mood. – “But could ya tell me real things today?” – he pleaded with those warm, dark eyes and you honestly could have cried on the spot.

“Of course.” – you eventually responded, gathering up your courage. – “So it’s our first date. Who would you say invited whom out?”

“I’d say you texted me, so technically you asked me out today.” – he said in that low, shy tone of his that reminded you so much of those first few times you spent together and how much that beautiful sound drew you in.

“True, I just couldn’t resist you anymore.” – you nodded.

“I thought we agreed on real things.” – Clyde protested, but you stared at him without looking away to show him you were sincere.

“This is real. You spoke to me then in that exact tone of voice and something so soothing and restrained coming from a man looking like you was absolutely fascinating. And I instantly wanted to get to know you better.” – you had to cut yourself off before this dangerous honesty went too far.

Clyde was searching your eyes for any joke or roleplay or lie, but finding none, he looked past you, thinking over what you said.

“And you were so cute and handsome, I remember your head was almost hitting the top of the bar—“ – you continued before Clyde chuckled slightly.

“You spotted that? I’m always reflexively ducking around, I should get that sorted somehow.” – he pondered.

“Of course. You were the tallest, most strapping man in the room, we were all looking at you. Dark and handsome, broad shoulders, quiet – it’s like you were put there to drive all the women crazy.” – you told him the truth in the guise of a joke.

Clyde was wrestling with himself and his new determination not to shy away from you as much anymore, deciding whether to pursue this topic or cool down a bit before he did or said something he couldn’t take back. Suddenly, a knot twisted in him, knowing he already had a date scheduled with Sheryl tomorrow and he knew he would feel like a scumbag if he did something with you now. – “So then it’s safe to say that kid at the bar wasn’t your type?”

“Which one, that first night or the one in Lynchburg?”

“Sorry, I forget I should be more specific when referring to your long list of suitors. Ow!” – he winced as you pinched a soft spot on his upper arm.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter cuz neither of them were, not the guy, Jackson was it, nor the rower.” – you made a petulant face at him.

“Oh, a rower, was he? Good for him.” – Clyde said with the kind of venom you’d expect from someone a real date when a contender is brought up and it frankly gave you butterflies.

“I’m a grown woman, I don’t go for boys.” – you shrugged.

“Y’know that Jackson’s Moody’s brother?”

“Moody as in Bobbie Jo’s new husband?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah, that’s why Jimmy was with him that night.”

“Wow, how does he manage to be so cool with that whole…situation? Going out for drinks with his ex-wife’s new husband’s brother?”

“Sadie.” – Clyde answered simply and you nodded. – “Some people are just worth everything to you and that’s that.”

A chill ran down your spine at the conviction with which he was speaking and you allowed yourself to shudder. – “Mmh, you know what’s a sure-fire way to get a date number two? Being all sexy and intense like that.” – you watched him closely, wondering if he’ll blush or just lean into all the compliments and flirting even more.

“Alright, darlin’, take it easy, yer comin’ on a bit too strong now.” – he pulled away a little, pretending to be put off.

“Oh, darn it, I am, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I just want this date to go well!” – you stepped right back to him, clutching your hands in front of your face, almost like you were praying for a change of heart.

“Well, ya gotta be cool, y’know? That’s yer biggest problem, yer just not cool enough fer me.” – he shook his head mournfully and sighed.

“You’re right.”- you agreed, jumping over onto the trail in front of him so he would stop. – “And while we’re being honest and uncool…” – you put your hands around the back of his head, tugging him down gently so you could kiss his forehead. – “You’re my absolute favorite person in this whole entire state.”

You felt a grumble in his chest as he pressed you in there, tucking your hear under his jaw. – “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Take me to lunch?” - you offered, rocking him from side to side.

“Oh, that’s right, Jimmy and Sylvie will already be waitin’.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Oh, yes , they will- by the time we get there. On foot. Cuz someone always insists on wakin’ everywhere.” – Clyde rolled his eyes, starting in the direction where you needed to go.

“Oh, my god, it’s our first date and we’re already fighting.” – you said in the saddest voice you could muster.

“Oh,hush you!” – Clyde scolded, as he rarely did, and you counted is as a victory, whenever he put his foot down in even the smallest way.

“Oh, hush _you_ , your little buns have never looked better!”

*

Lunch was a fun affair, with some recapping of the night before and the growing repertoire of inside jokes your little group was beginning to share. However, you could have sworn that Jimmy kept eyeing you in a way he hadn’t before, somehow appraisingly or suspiciously, you couldn’t put your finger on it. You would notice, here and there, after someone would tell a joke and you all laughed, especially when you or Clyde made the other laugh, almost invariably, it was followed by some odd exchange of looks and the mood deflating. You assumed Clyde and Jimmy had one of their frequent spats, so you tried to focus on Sylvie, who was her usual fun self.

After lunch, Jimmy and Sylvie were off to see some friends they didn’t get to see much anymore and you were off to the bar with Clyde.

He insisted you not do any work, but you managed to weasel in a few tasks before he relented and accepted your help. He was behind the bar, setting up, as you meandered around, finally coming upon the case that was broken the first night you met. It now had a fresh coat of varnish and new glass, with pretty, though subtle frosted accents.

“It looks better now, I reckon.” - Clyde commented, seeing you inspect it.

“I think so too. It’s your classic Kintsugi in action.”

“Yer what?” – Clyde cocked his head to the side, like a confused puppy.

“Have you ever seen those bowls with golden veins all over them?”

“I…don’t think I have.” – Clyde looked up, trying to visualize what you were describing, but it didn’t ring a bell.

“Why would you? It’s all over the internet, people trying to make themselves sound profound when talking about it. And no, the irony of my talking about it right now is not lost on me.” – you said before he could. Not that he ever would.

You showed him pictures on your phone and explained how it is the art of repairing something broken and making it a centerpiece, something more beautiful than before.

“So maybe I should paint this thing gold too.” – he joked, lifting his prosthetic in the air.

“Nah, it would be way too Jaime Lannister.” – you said, remembering Clyde wasn’t too into watching TV and he didn’t particularly strike you as an epic fantasy nerd. – “I don’t know if you know the character, he’s a--”

“No, I do, the guys back at the--” – oh, shit. He couldn’t very well tell you that the men he met during his 90-day stint in jail were into Game of Thrones and that was a way to bond and while away the time. In the army? Nah, the show wasn’t even on back then. Shit! – “er… at the, um.. some guys who used to, uh, come round the bar would… talk about it. I guess they want the next book, y’know?”

“Mh, good luck with that.” – you said as you put your phone back in your bag. – “Incidentally, keep that bionic thing as is, it really works.”

“Excuse me?” – Clyde’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your insinuation.

“Stop it, I don’t mean it in any kind of fetishist way. I just mean it shows you’ve been through some things and you made it out. Resilience is one of the best qualities you can have.”

“I thought you said it was attentiveness. Or confidence. Yer givin’ me a lotta mixed messages here.” – he teased, mixing your favorite drink for you.

“They are, they all are. And you have them in spades.”

“Oh, I don’t really know about that.” – he mused, thinking of all the times he would convince himself someone wasn’t really flirting with him or thinking people felt one way about him, like they thought he was dumb just because he was withdrawn or pitied him because of his accident, only to find out they thought much better or worse of him.

“You’re obviously very perceptive.”- you started, putting your elbows on the bar and resting your head in your hands. – “And you’re an excellent listener, you can’t deny me that.”- you pointed a finger at him and he pushed it away with his, making you grin. – “I mean, just… Take last night, there was so much stuff at the bar that was so lovely, that we shared so far. The food, the drinks, the music, that shirt I love on you… Unless I’m reading too much into it and it was just an acci—“

“It wasn’t an accident.” – he muttered, looking almost exactly the same as he did that first night, sliding your drink over to you, eyes firmly on the glass.

“Well, there you go. And maybe I should have said something right away, but believe me, even we’re too shy to say it, us, ladies, do notice that stuff and it goes right to the heart.”- you placed your right hand palm up on the bar, inviting him to take it. He did and you brought it close to your face, inspecting it for a moment, running your left index finger over the horseshoe ring. – “And you’re excellent at it.”- you spoke quietly before turning his hand so you could bring the back of it to your lips and kiss it. – “So don’t ever worry that you won’t be attentive enough, you don’t have it in you not to be.” – you murmured almost inaudibly, not sure if he could even hear you, too wrapped up in thinking of last night and the effort he had to have put into it all.

You were still holding his knuckles against your closed mouth, savoring his proximity – he could _never_ be close enough - when you felt his mustache and beard tickle the back of your hand before his warm lips rested against your skin. His face was so close that a stand of his hair could reach your cheek and his thumb could flick it away, resting against your face and stroking.

Your breathing picked up as you considered that there is no way, none at all, that you can pull away now without another searing kiss ensuing and you were trying to bargain with yourself into breaking the promise you silently made of not getting together with Clyde before you gave him a chance to pursue someone else. But it seemed inevitable after Pandora’s box was opened last week and especially now, that you could feel his heavy chest heaving as well, preparing for the moment your lips left each other’s hands.

You wrapped your fingers around his wrist, to guide your entwined hands lower, resting them just below your chin.

His forehead immediately rested against yours, eyes tightly shut and you could feel him frowning and straining. After a huff, he nuzzled somehow even closer. – “Darlin’, I really need to say somethin’ right now.”

You nuzzled back, encouraging him to go on, wanting him to just get on with it and say whatever he wanted to, so you could finally feel his lips on yours again.

Maybe you were deep in your bubble or maybe the patron really did send the door of the bar flying open, but the sound of it made both you and Clyde jump up and pull apart. His eyes fixed intently on the person who came in, glaring, but then also blinking guiltily.

“Can we, uh… pick this up tomorrow?” – Clyde suggested, knowing the bar filled up on Saturdays and did not empty until the early hours of Sunday.

“Sure, let me know you’re up tomorrow.” – you answered, hoping you didn’t draw too much attention from the people who just entered..

“Oh, um… Yeah. I have a… thing tomorrow. I’m uh, seeing an old friend. But I can see you after that?” – Clyde stuttered out, his hand smoothing over his facial hair and hiding his mouth.

Shit, you were supposed to see Alexandra in the afternoon, after you were done hanging out with Clyde. - “Oh, I had this… Nevermind, I can push it back.” – you shook your hear, dismissing the explanation, not sure how to tell Clyde about this.

His lips pursed in thought, jaw ticking. - “Ya sure? I don’t wanctha to-- ”

“It’s absolutely fine. I want to see you tomorrow and…continue this.” – you gave him a loaded look and he took in a somewhat shaky breath and grinned.

“Alright then.”


	11. Not goin’ anywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: talk of a terrorist attack (of sorts), being anxious/in shock
> 
> Warning: some kinda explicit sex stuff

Clyde had a lovely date with Sheryl. She showed up looking like an absolute doll, her hair hanging in pretty curls and wearing a flattering summery dress. It didn’t take long before both nervously confessed they’d liked each other for a long time and how their friends and family were constantly hoping they’d make some sort of move. She was beautiful and bubbly, though skittish, and despite her troubles in the past, she managed to be sweet and open. Clyde couldn’t help admiring that profoundly. He had done everything you’d ever told him to do – said whatever adoring thing was on his mind, asked whatever he wanted to know and listened like his life depended on it. Sheryl smiled often, that sincere smile that touched her pretty eyes and asked coy, but discerning questions of her own about him and listened with the utmost compassion and interest. It felt like being out with an old, loving friend who couldn’t get enough of you. By far, the best date of his life.

At the end, it didn’t feel appropriate to have a full-on kiss; both were too buttoned up to do that; besides, there were people everywhere and people talk. They shared a hug, with genuine affection exchanged, and a kiss on the cheek, settling on talking on the phone later and seeing each other again soon.

*

Before meeting you, Clyde felt queasy and was covered in flop sweat, so he decided to take a hopefully mind-clearing cold shower and change, somehow feeling like a paranoid cheating spouse, as if you would smell another woman on him.

As he came up to say hello and give you another one of those magnificent hugs that sustained him, he was gripped by an odd fear that this might be the last. Maybe you’d get angry, maybe Sheryl will be uncomfortable with your relationship and he might one day soon never get to do this again. Instead of wrapping his arms around your middle, he buried his hand in your hair and wrapped the other around your shoulders, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as he nestled into yours. You, unaware of the gravity the moment held for him, tried your best to squeeze him and knock the wind out of him, which only resulted in some straining and then defeated giggles. Clyde didn’t care, he was too busy stroking your hair and getting ready to speak.

“I went on a date with Sheryl.”- he said as you began to part, so fast he thought you may not even understand him.

You did, and you stood regarding him, distantly thinking that maybe you should look away from him because you weren’t sure what your face was doing – it could have been frowning, crying, screaming, all you were aware of was the image of some vague amalgamation of women you’d seen around town and Clyde, heart-eyed and happy, walking hand in hand above the clouds.

“Say something, please.”- he prompted, face all screwed up with concern.

A strange numbness took over; there was something to be handled now, and handled with care and grace, and you could fall apart later if you so wished. With a polite smile and a shake of the head, not finding anything profound to say, you offered some niceties. -”I’m glad you did, I gather you’ve wanted to take her out for a long time.”

“She texted me first, actually.” – he threw out, almost like an explanation, an excuse.

“Assertive. Good for her, you want a quality like that in a lady”. – you skirted the word girlfriend, it just felt like a jagged rock in your mouth.

“I mean, this is… this is what everybody wanted. It’s been a long time comin’, I think.” – Clyde thought out loud, remembering their conversation and how the whole world seemed to be conspiring to push them together somehow.

You nodded silently, letting him make up his own mind and tell you what he needed and wanted. That was what you had been giving him room to do and he has sure done it now. – “Then it’s all excellent. And I guess we should talk a bit about heavier stuff from now on.” – you were grateful for the ability to switch topic naturally, so you wouldn’t have to hear about the date.

“Like what?” – he asked in his little voice, so many of the things you’d discussed thus far being hard on him already.

“Well, I can only imagine Sheryl wants a long-term thing with you, we’re not kids anymore. And so she’ll want to and she’ll deserve to know about more intimate stuff.”

Clyde looked at you with a strange pleading sadness, but also resignation – he didn’t want to think about, let alone talk about, his past or the things he scarcely allowed himself to want, but he knew it was unavoidable. You’d normally grab his hand and try to reassure him somehow, but you found yourself unable to right then. There was a wall between you now, another woman, and your own hurt feelings, the irrational anger over them and the rational anger at yourself for holding his progress and happiness against him in a way.

Against your usual instinct, you spoke bluntly. – “Your arm – how it happened and what it means to you, family – do you want kids, how soon, your future – are you staying in your current profession, in your current town… Who you really are. What you truly care about. I never pressed you on those issues, maybe it’s only something you are willing to share with those you love.”

He continued staring at you, lower lip quivering almost imperceptibly, those tender eyes fixed and frozen.

“And I won’t ask you to share it with me now, I mean, we barely know each other in the grand scheme of things, right? I know what music you like and that you adore your family, but that’s something anyone can see.” – whoa there, stop, this isn’t supposed to be about you. And maybe sound less bitter. – “But your… lady will want to know about all that and more. So if you haven’t, you should probably consider those things.” – you concluded, offering none of your usual patience and encouragement, sublimated from observing good and bad people around you. You remembered how ridiculous your whole arrangement was, now that some secret, unspoken promise was broken and you were _not_ building to a point where you can’t take it anymore and just say screw it. Now Clyde had Sheryl, and the way everyone had spoken to you of her made you convinced she’s the perfect match for Clyde – someone from his own world, who had had hardships of her own and was beloved and respected for overcoming them. She was his other half and you were some outsider who hung out with him because… she gets hit on a lot basically? Jesus Christ.

Clyde was standing nearby, deep in thought and a face so long it was practically touching the forest floor, and you were contemplating how to suggest abruptly leaving without seeming upset or jealous or anything else you were feeling at the moment. The thought of walking with him and hearing him talk about, say, a future family with Sheryl made you want to retch.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and in a split second, you had a plan. Whatever it was, you’d say you need to go and videochat with this person, maybe lie and say you forgot about that or something.

You opened the message from Marius and saw it was a video. He always sent either the most beautiful or hilarious stuff and whatever it was, you thought it could only lift your spirits. Normally, you would only open messages when you and Clyde parted ways, but you desperately needed a distraction and this was a godsend.

You clicked on it and saw a mass of people, all dressed in gorgeous and/or flamboyant outfits, rainbow colored flags and paraphernalia sticking up in every direction, many other screens held up and recording. The music came loud and clear and proud.

_When it's cold outside_

_Am I here in vain?_

_Hold on to the night_

_There will be no shame_

_Always, I want to be with you_

_And make believe with you_

_And live in harmony, harmony, oh love_

It sounded so hauntingly beautiful in the woods, so dense and deep and quiet, only this longing, melodic voice making any noise.

You knew the song in an instant and it all made sense. Marius was at Cologne Pride and this song, _your_ song, was playing. No wonder he recorded it and sent it, it was the perfect mix of your past and present; the song you lost your virginity to to him, now playing at this amazing event, while he’s working at a talent agency championing the LGBTQ population in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Before the video was over, you felt tears welling up in your eyes and you wiped them with your sleeve, laughing.

“What is it?” – Clyde approached, always at the ready to help and comfort.

You played the video for him, explaining what it was and what made you cry, minus the losing the virginity part because, really, who needed to know that. Clyde listened to the wonderful things Marius was doing, literally making the world a better place, and felt like he was so small and insignificant compared to that. It also didn’t help knowing he was the person you were in a relationship with the longest and that he was still sending you romantic songs, making you cry.

It was a difficult and confusing moment you were in and it didn’t take much convincing for Clyde to agree to cut it short today as you purportedly wanted to get a hold of Marius.

“Oh, and, uh, good going on making it happen with Sheryl, I hope it works out.” – you turned to say, already on your way back and realizing it might be rude not to wish them well after hearing the news.

“Thanks.” – Clyde turned around, freezing like a deer in headlights, as if you just told him you were an alien. – “We’ll, um, talk soon. Have a nice time with Marius.”

*

A week passed. You and Clyde had not spoken again. He had been out with Sheryl every other day basically and by Friday, she was set to stay over during the weekend. You had seen Alexandra once or twice and in between hangouts, she bombarded you with either snarky messages about how she was bored and her family was inquiring whether she had plans to marry any nice boy and the funniest, freshest memes and videos you’d ever seen. She was a superb texter and a pleasure to talk to. You were grateful she was there, not only because she was a lovely person and an excellent kisser, but also because your interactions with Clyde rapidly dwindled and you were left with the fact that you had made basically no friends outside of him. Were it not for her, you’d spend your days in silence.

Your phone was on silent, as it had been practically since you took it out of the box, but the vibration was loud enough to hear. You’d periodically pick it up and giggle before getting back to answering emails and arguing with suppliers and vendors.

“Does our boss finally have a beau?” – Sally asked when you took a short break and sat in the shade outside.

You considered what to say – you wouldn’t say you were in a relationship with Alexandra exactly, nor was she technically speaking out, but the way you texted back and forth like teenagers and occasionally blushed when she said something salacious about her plans with you or sent over something risqué probably wasn’t helping your case. – “I guess I’m kind of having a little… thing?”

Sally nodded, grinning at you supportively. She’d unofficially made you a mentor and would often hang on your every word, like when you talked about Bryan’s business acumen or talking clients and partners off a ledge. And she was a brilliant young woman in her own right. – “Good. You were spendin’ all your time around Clyde, people were startin’ to think you were an item.” – she snorted at the thought.

You put the snort aside, thinking back on when you and Clyde had been around other people? You thought you were discreet? Taking hikes alone in the woods and not being too friendly at the bar, not even leaving together? That was the point of not ruining his chances with other women. – “People know about us hanging out?”

Sally smiled at your confused face, her being the wiser one for once in your conversations. – “There’s no secrets around here.”- she shrugged. – “But I knew you weren’t. I told everyone who asked. It just doesn’t make sense.” – she informed you like it was the most obvious thing and she was doing you a favor.

“Uh huh. And what…did you say?” – you asked, trying to keep your tone breezy.

Suddenly feeling like she might have said too much and you could get angry, she sat up, her entire demeanor changing. – “Well, no. You’ll probably leave soon, is all.”- she looked at you pleadingly, hoping you wouldn’t snap, but also looking for confirmation. You just continued looking at her until she spoke again. – “You’re a city gal, for lack of a better word. Been around the world. You wouldn’t settle for someone like Clyde, livin’ here in the middle of nowhere. And you’re too nice to let him get his hopes up if even he was interested.” – she concluded, trying to search your face for any change indicating whether she was getting warmer or colder with regard to your relationship. Clearly, she’d thought about this more than she let on.

You wondered if Sally knew how pained and screwed up her face was, talking about someone she had feelings for as if he weren’t amazing. It made you sad to see this poor young girl who still had many lessons to learn try to get information out of you and reassure herself Clyde wasn’t with you while also signaling you shouldn’t be together and were a bad match. Were you as young and ruled by your emotions as she was, you might tell her that he’s already taken, but it wasn’t your place to do. You had had enough bitchy outbursts in your youth and, anyway, she would find out when it was time. You just hoped she wouldn’t take it too hard as what you had once deemed an innocent crush that would soon fade away now looked like something more. And worst of all, you couldn’t blame her one bit.

*

Though the other girl was smaller, she was by far the more aggressive. Sitting across your lap, in only her panties, she pulled your hair and gripped your neck to move you around which way she wanted so she could kiss and nip at you, you murmuring and moaning accordingly. Your lips were shiny and swollen from her searing kisses, grinding on the sheets beneath you, ready for more.

Leaving your hair, her hands slid in teasing serpentines along your shoulders and chest, you sighing in anticipation, before cupping the breasts and massaging slowly and adoringly, then running her thumbs quite deliberately and deftly over the exquisitely sensitive flesh, hardening the nipples into two perfect buds, drawing a satisfied hiss from you, making you more and more heated. Her own arousal overpowered her, making her slide up and down your thigh, using the friction of her panties to the fullest.

She pushed you down onto the pillows, your hair splaying over them, looking like a vision. She couldn’t resist using her smart tongue to play around with your breasts and belly, making you moan and giggle in succession. Your mouth flew open suddenly, but no sound came out for a moment, before a low groan slowly eased out, followed by quick labored breathing, as the girl’s fingers slipped between your folds.

She didn’t even have a face, all Clyde could see and imagine was you, writhing, grabbing fistfuls of her hair as she nestled between your thighs, arching your back and hurtling towards release. Water was cascading down his body, but his intense arousal kept him slick as he grunted and hissed, pumping himself furiously, just wanting to finish and get some respite from these images that plagued him day and night. His hips started canting instinctively, all the muscles in his body rippling and trembling in anticipation. He was close, shutting his eyes to stop the prickling, whether from the water irritating him or from the maddening pressure building in his body, he didn’t care.

Fuck, if he could be there. If right as you were losing yourself to the moment and wanted nothing but the bliss of a toe-curling orgasm, he were there, hard and desperate for you, ready to give the kind of fucking no woman ever could. If he could slide you across the sheets into himself, hearing your flesh slap against his and kiss you as he buried himself all the way inside you, swallowing your moans, feeling you wrap your legs around his hips and beg him with your whole body not to let you go. And he could pound into you inexorably and indulgently, until you scream his name and clench all around him—

“Fuck! Ohh, fuuuck.” – he growled as he came in one big explosion, then several diminishing waves, muttering expletives as his rigid body finally relaxed and the weight of frustrated arousal was lifted for a while.

Slumped against the cold tiles, he caught his breath for a few minutes, letting himself grow soft again, and then stepped out to get dressed.

He was meeting you for the first time that week and it would be the first time you’d spoken in days. His relationship with Sheryl was progressing as well as anyone could hope for, in fact, he was meeting her later tonight and their own growing passions only added fuel to the fire.

He had started finding it necessary to… take care of himself before meeting you a while ago just to avoid any awkward situation, but after seeing you with the girl that night… well, his cock went completely haywire, there was no polite way of saying it. And apart from the blinding orgasms those images brought him, he didn’t trust his own self-control as it was only a matter of time before you told him about your tryst.

*

It was set to rain later on in the day, so you had arranged both with Clyde and Alexandra to meet you at your place, since they both drove and, obviously, Alexandra wasn’t about to take you home to meet the family or anything.

Clyde, of course, arrived first and today was the day you would tactfully announce to him that there was a new person in your life and if he surmised the sexual aspect of your relationship, fine; if not, also fine.

Before you really had the chance to catch up at all, both working up the guts to tell the other what on the surface was all good news, you got a call from an official looking number. After a moment of trying to figure out what the number was, you flashed back to your dad or his colleagues calling you to let you know about changes in schedule or to conduct some official calls and knew you should definitely pick up if the call was coming from this number. It was probably about your upcoming trip, which is what you also told Clyde as you stepped out to take it.

You came back in a few minutes later, noticeably paler, and picked up the remote control to switch the TV on to Al Jazeera, which proved to be difficult with shaky hands and no strength in your grip. Clyde was right behind you and was about to take the remote to help when you finally managed it. Your attention, desperate and intense, was on the screen and Clyde thought it best to let you do whatever you had intended in this moment and ask questions later. After a few minutes of reports on things that he couldn’t fathom interested or upset you to such a degree, he noticed the news scroll which gave information on a developing attack on one of the embassies in Tripoli. Remembering that that’s likely where your father was, his hand flew to his mouth and then quickly to your upper arm as he noticed you wobbling dangerously. He helped sit your down on the couch and continued reading. Apparently, some attackers threw a hand grenade at the building to lure guards away and broke into the North Korean embassy. At the moment, they didn’t know what their objective was and whether there were injuries or fatalities.

When the scroll was over, he turned to face you and wait until you spoke. It seemed as if you forgot he was there altogether, your eyes unfocused, but still terrified, thinking god knows what. Not that he could blame you if even a fraction of what was flying through his mind was true. After a long moment, he gently placed a hand on your shoulder. – “Darlin’? What did they tell you?”

Your answer was heart-breakingly robotic and distant. – “Eight diplomats held hostage inside the building. Some definitely injured, but no one can share who or how severely just yet. Uncle Greg said they’d continue reporting as the situation develops. They don’t know much right now.”

Clyde listened, trying as hard as he could to understand and not further annoy or upset you with more questions, like whether they were sure your father was in there or who this uncle Greg was, knowing your father had no siblings. His assumption that it was a colleague and family friend was enough for now.

He kept expecting you to cry or start rambling or do something, but your almost comatose state was worse than any of that. Pale and slightly sweaty, with a faraway stare, he was becoming more and more sure you were in shock.

Without hesitation, Clyde sprang to his feet and crouched in front of you.- “Darlin’, are you with me? Listen, I’ll have to do some things to you, but you’re fine. Okay?” – he cooed as he lifted your shirt slightly, seeing that your jeans were high waisted and buttoned right around your middle. Deftly, he unbuttoned and slightly unzipped them, immediately feeling behind your back for the hook of your bra. Luckily, you shirt was loose around the neck and nothing would constrict airflow, which was now irregular and shallow. – “Will ya lie down for me? Right here?” – he turned and gently laid you down on the couch, bending your legs to lift them over the armrest. You were still quiet, but pliant and he hoped you’d snap out of it soon. – “Can ya look at me, please?” – he asked softly, moving your hair out of your face and slightly inclining your head towards him. You did manage to lock eyes with him and he was relieved to see you, your soul, inside. – “There ya are. Good girl. Yer doin’ great.” – he encouraged you, stroking up and down your arm to get some blood flowing again.

“I’m gonna put my hand on yer chest and it’s gonna feel warm. Okay? Ya feel that? Good. I want ya to breathe into that spot as I count to four. Can you do that?” – you blinked and he started counting. You could barely breathe in by three, feeling your chest shake with the effort by the time he finished. Then you had to hold and then breathe out for four beats, and you similarly faltered by two, having already exhaled a bit while you were supposed to be holding. Clyde cooed into your ear you were going great, you were fine, just a bit more, everything is alright. A few more rounds of this breathing, and you were able to do it right on his count, feeling much more warm and present and calm.

It was like you were frozen and you were slowly melting away, coming back to life. It wasn’t scary to be in that state, but coming out of it and realizing something might have been seriously wrong was the real fright. Terror gripped you, for your own lapse in consciousness, Clyde’s worry and, most of all, what may be happening to your dad right at that moment. Clyde felt your chest shake under his hand and then he saw your face twist as tears rolled down the side of face and slid over the bridge of your nose. He moved his hand over to your shoulder in support and kissed your forehead while you were trying to get a hold of yourself.

When you’d calmed down a little, Clyde checked if you wanted to sit up and you did, making yourself decent again. He suggested taking a little break and that he would stay abreast of the news so you wouldn’t get too wound up.

You felt your heart kick up anxiously at the mention of further news. – “God, I don’t know if it’s worse to obsess or not know.” – you doubled over, elbows on knees, rubbing your eyes. Clyde was running a hand up and down your back and it was comforting to have him there, knowing he had gone through awful stuff himself and was still here, reassuring you. You could almost believe him when he said things would be alright.

“Oh, yeah, I should…” – you muttered as you reached for you phone, clearing your throat and hoping to sound not too alarmed. – “Hey. Oh, nothing much, but I, uh, actually won’t be able to see you tonight. I know. I’m very sorry. There’s some… family trouble going on and I… I don’t know what’s happening exactly, I need to, uh, follow up with some people. It’s just, it’s a mess. So again, I’m so sorry, but I just can’t… Okay, yeah. Thank you. Have a safe trip. Bye.”

Clyde was fairly certain what that was about and while he expected to feel jealous or sad, all he felt listening to you trying to spare Alexandra the turmoil was compassion for you. You had to be strong for your mother, you father, for him, your team, Bryan and you managed to take care of everyone and make them all believe you were fine, even in a time like this, virtually moments after being catatonic. Goddamn it, he loved you so much and he just wanted to make it better somehow.

You both sat quietly for another little bit until you felt like you could trust your voice. 

“Thank you for helping me and calming me down.”- genuinely touched by how cool and in control he was, it was a side of him you didn’t really get to see before. – “But I think it’s best you go, you don’t need to go thought this. And I won’t be a lot of fun today.” – you gave a feeble laugh, trying to play it off.

He shook his head in disbelief. – “It’s not yer job to be fun. And I don’t wanna stay so you’ll entertain me. I wanna… I wanna be with you, help you.”

His earnestness brought fresh tears to your eyes, along with the thought of what if you get the worst kind of news. How will you handle that? And do you want Clyde around for it? Again, you hid your face behind your hands, you voice well and truly failing you. – “Thank you, I know you mean that. But there’s nothing to be done. They said that the attackers don’t seem to be violent, they wanted files it looks like, not to hurt anyone. You don’t… you don’t have to go through this, it’s not fair. You didn’t sign up for it.”

The sight of you like this caused him real physical pain and he felt so charged with energy, yet utterly impotent. - “You didn’t either.” – he reminded.

You threw your head back and breathed in deeply. - “Really, it’s okay. I’m okay.” – you lied and Clyde was not one bit convinced. – “It’s gonna be a long day and maybe night and I need to make some calls and process and… I need to be alone.”

You managed a decisive tone that left the gentleman in Clyde no choice but to leave, having been told in no uncertain terms that you did not want his company. Equally for his comfort, as well as your own, he wanted to hug you and say something sweet and encouraging, though it would likely ring hollow, if the bad attempts as comforting him in the past were anything to go by. But his consideration won out in the end, not wanting to soften you up again and break your resolve, so he agreed to go if you promised to let him know of any news as soon as you got them, determined to follow the news from his home too. You said yes and he left.

*

You were back on your couch, sitting with your legs crossed, eyes glued to the screen and reading the same scroll with no substantial updates.

You felt yourself ever so slowly drifting into that same numb state, feeling colder and more panicked by the minute, like the walls were slowly closing in around you. You tried breathing again, but without a more confident presence near you, you felt each breath getting more shallow.

You front door opened as quietly and slowly as possible and for a few moments, you didn’t notice anything or see Clyde standing there, looking a little apologetic, but mostly determined to stay.

“I couldn’t really go, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, but I couldn’t and i won’t.” – he spoke looking at the ground, leaning against the door like he wanted to take up as little space in your home as possible and not intrude while also being there. You bowed your head, feeling you were about to hysterically cry, but opened your arms so he would come sit with you. Instead of that, he kneeled in front your and held you for a while as you sobbed with so many intense feelings coursing through you.

“I’m sorry, I thought if I was alone, I could tell myself this was no biggie.” – you choked out, wiping your face over his shoulder. – “I didn’t grow up with siblings and there weren’t often people home, so I just don’t know…how to be around someone when something is wrong. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never really broken down like this in front of anyone before.”

“Maybe it’s time ya did. I mean, quid pro quo, I’ve fallen apart around you plenty.” – he joked and you actually did laugh, grateful for the momentary relief.

“Really, I mean, yer so important to me. I want t’make sure ya… yer okay. And even if you say y’are, I know ya can’t be. It’s much easier to tell people you’ll be fine and not let ‘em know what’s going with ya than to let everythin’ yer feelin’ go right through ya.” – he spoke very soothingly, but it sounded like it was coming from such a real place that it felt almost too much to hear. – “I know what yer doin’. As much as I made sure nobody had to suffer on my account, part of me wished someone’d stayed with me when I was back from.. when I was…” - he was trying to find a way to relay to you his own trauma without making the moment about him. Affection rose in your chest at how sweet he unrelentingly was and you hugged him even tighter around the shoulders and neck before he could find the end of his sentence.

To both your surprises, but pleasure too, he didn’t hesitate to pull you closer as he stood up and sat on the couch, draping you over his lap to hug you better and closer.

“I’m not gonna on about me now, but just know I’m not goin’ anywhere.” – he assured you as he rocked you side to side.

Feeling blindly, you first touched the side of his face, then chin and nose, covering his mouth to get him to stop talking, your face buried under his jaw. This was more than enough.

You never would have thought someone’s company could actually provide you that kind of comfort, but it felt like he could protect from the entire world and as long you were in his arms, nothing bad could happen. It may be the most egotistical thought to have, but it felt like the entire world shrunk and your little living room, in the confines of his arms, along with the TV piping in news was the only thing that existed.


	12. Good news

You spent the next few hours mostly around the couch or the kitchen; watching the TV and staring at the phone or making coffee and tea way too many times for such a short time period – honestly, the last thing you needed was more caffeine and alertness in your system. Clyde eventually suggested playing card games to distract yourselves – you wouldn’t have to talk, but it would keep your mind busy. While you were rummaging around for those, he deftly snuck out and had a quick call with Sheryl, saying he was terribly sorry, but something came up with a (male) friend and he needed to help him. Being the angel that she is, she kept saying he didn’t need to apologize, she’s happy to see him whenever and hopefully his friend would be alright. With a heart all twisted up and a strong desire to kick himself in his lying ass, he went back in, ready to continue his work of keeping your occupied and silently praying for a good resolution to your father’s situation.

The card game worked as well as anything could under the circumstances and you even found yourself shit talking and laughing a little, although neither of you could muster the usual levels of joy you felt around the other. Hours later, it was fully dark and Clyde was trying to persuade you to eat something even though he understood full well when you whined your weren’t hungry and your stomach was tied in so many knots no food could really settle anywhere. A bit of emotional blackmail – _your dad would wancha t’be takin’ care of yerself_ – and a side of pleading, puppy dog eyes and you were cornered, masticating a protein bar as Clyde egged you on to take more bites, watching you like a hawk.

Finally, _finally_ , your phone rang and your sprang for it, uncle Greg’s voice feeling like a lifeline. All eight diplomats have been evacuated, one fatality. He couldn’t say more or continue talking, but he slipped in that things were under control. There was a strange battle inside you, an instinctive relief knowing that whatever had been happening was over and an unspoken assurance that if something had happened to your dad, his closest friend wouldn’t try to, or be able to, lie to you. On the other hand, somebody was dead and who knows what this whole mess was really about. Clyde was waiting with bated breath to hear you announce anything, though he could read you well enough to know the news wasn’t so bad. You were touched at how obvious and profound his relief was, his whole body language changing as he pulled you into a hug.

“Good, not-bad news is good news. It’s gonna be alright.” – he whispered into your hair and you nodded, drawing a deep sigh. – “That’s probably gonna be all you hear and definitely all the news is gonna say for a while, I think you should go to bed for a bit. I suspect it’s gonna be a long night.” – he explained, already resolved on staying until the morning or till he heard your dad was okay, whichever came first.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep much.” – you cocked your head to the side, not wanting to argue pointlessly, but feeling like just lying in bed was a waste of time.

Clyde gave a quick nod, but then shrugged. – “Ya might surprise yerself. Worryin’ takes a lot out of you.”

He was scarily good at calming you down and communicating his worry and reassurance with his eyes and body, he didn’t even need to engage in that dance of pleading and cooing to break your resolve and send you to bed.

*

It was fully the middle of the night when Clyde came into your bedroom, quietly, but urgently, to get you to come see a report. You rubbed the half-sleep from your eyes – he was right, you did enjoy resting and occasionally drifting into shallow sleep – and scrambled to your feet.

A group of terrorists had broken into the embassy by throwing a grenade at the building and then fighting their way in. They had attacked several members of staff and made off with certain files, which remain undisclosed. They spoke very vaguely on the news, mentioning the one casualty which you already knew about, and how the embassy had been vacated. The report quickly shifted to speculation about who these men were and what they wanted, as well as recent events involving North Korea. You hadn’t expected them to go into how many boo boos each person sustained, but it was still annoying they couldn’t at least say something about this casualty or in what state the other staff were.

Both you and Clyde deflated, disappointed not more was said. He leaned back, stifling a yawn and rubbing his bleary eyes as yours traveled around the coffee table in your living room; an empty cup of coffee and a book from your shelf, one that you hadn’t gotten around to yet, that he had been reading to keep himself busy and awake, splayed open.

“I think we need to get you to bed. I’m not letting you drive home like that and the news is clearly not gonna be giving us any useful information. Let me find you something to sleep in.” – you announced, slapping his knee and getting up. He was really hoping you meant couch when you said bed because, while he wouldn’t dream of making any kind of move in a situation like this, he didn’t need the added stress and grief of lulling you to sleep and then sharing your bed right now.

Following the same urge not to argue pointlessly, he complied and was in the middle of taking a quick, soothing shower while you grabbed some extra blankets and pillows for him and sectioning off a side for him, as opposed to your usual starfishing all over the entire bed, when your phone rang, sending a pang of panic through your core. You ran into the living room, as did Clyde, hastily wrapping a towel around himself and watching you intently. Again, it was uncle Greg, as you assumed, but this time, he was at the hospital and he could actually talk. Apparently, the casualty was one of the attackers; a few guards were injured, but they would be alright. As for the diplomats, several were tied up and some sustained minor injuries while trying to struggle. One of those was your dad, but he would be absolutely fine, he assured. In fact, he was right there and then there was a pause as he handed the phone to your father.

“Well, if it isn’t my little girl. Why aren’t you in bed, isn’t it late over there?” – he joked in his inimitable tone, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. It was an acquired skill and it you put it in kind of in the same category as black box recordings of pilots’ final moments, where they manage to maintain their cool until the very end, not wavering even in the face of fiery death. You laughed as your eyes filled with tears and Clyde breathed a sigh of relief, knowing things must be pretty much okay.

You felt like you needed to acknowledge his presence and, frankly, all the amazing support he had given you that day, but you couldn’t relay what you wanted to _and_ talk to your dad at the same time, so you just turned the loudspeaker on. Clyde’s stomach twisted nervously for a second, he felt like he was meeting your dad in a strange way, suddenly wishing he had a shirt on and trying to come up with an explanation for being at your place in the middle of the night, although if he stopped and thought for a second, he knew you wouldn’t put him on the spot like that.

“Well, you’re blowing up on Al Jazeera, no pun intended, I wanted to see what you were up to.” – you shot back, not nearly as coolly as he, your voice cracking once with laughter, once with flashes of your recent fear and sobs.

“Rah-rah, I hope you recorded it somehow, that’s undoubtedly going on the highlight reel of my life.” – he continued just as breezily and you were honestly getting a little impatient, just wanting to hear him say in no uncertain terms that he was well and safe. Clyde clapped a hand over his nose and mouth, not wanting to crack up and give away his presence.

You were quiet for a second and only offered an interrogative _dad_ , sounding even to yourself like a scared child before he reassured you. – “I’m alright, honey, I just caught some elbows as they say. Maybe I’ll finally get a cool eyebrow scar, look like a tough old man.” – his tone was far more genuine now, though still jocular, with Greg throwing in ‘No, you won’t.’

“We’re all safe and sound, only one unfortunate young man died, even before they entered our building. It’s behind us, now we need to worry about what they took and what they’re planning with it.” – your dad explained briefly, in a way that you knew was winding the conversation down and getting ready to jump right back into work. Clyde was silently marveling at this man who he had only seen about 30 years ago, on his wedding day, and rare photos with you since, and his obvious strength of character. It revealed a lot to him about you too and how you managed to be so resolute, yet selfless. He was thankful he was okay and already hoping to meet him some day.

“Alright, I understand. I’m glad you’re okay and we got to talk. Call me whenever you get a free moment in this mayhem, I’ll be sure to pick up. Love you.” – you said goodbye with the same sadness you always felt ending too short, too abrupt conversations with him – it had been that way as long as you can remember. But the constancy of having the same type of conversation now, as you were dreading losing him all day, was weirdly reassuring.

With the conversation over and the worry suddenly lifted from the air, standing wet and half-naked in your living room without his prosthetic on was totally re-contextualized and pretty uncomfortable for Clyde. He just wanted to scurry into the bathroom and get dressed, but he couldn’t bolt right after the call.

He couldn’t really give you a hug, given the wetness and that he was trying to keep his arm out of sight, nor could he even squeeze your shoulder or hand with his hand firmly gripping the towel. - “You okay? Can I just… get decent and I’ll be right back?” – he asked as if he needed your permission.

“I dunno, you already look pretty decent to me, but sure.”

“God, yer impossible.” – he muttered as he speed-walked to the bathroom and you continued making the bed.

*

Several more weeks passed. You father was fine, no more attacks occurred and you were itching to see him, which you would in Greece. Bryan was scheduled to finally come and visit all of you next weekend and things were mostly fine.

Alexandra was coming by again, which was unusual for her. She would get a few days, or even a few weeks, off at regular intervals, but she usually spent them doing different things. Now, she was using consecutive days off to come home and she was dropping hints all over the place that she would like to tell her friends, and eventually her family, about seeing you. The news felt like a real cold shower because your little fling was so much more casual in your head and you were doing a lot of soul-searching about whether you had led her on somehow and whether it would be even remotely okay to let her make this decision. There was a lot on your plate emotionally and you managed to push the conversation back a little, for when you returned from Greece, wanting to get through that whole affair and settle your nerves some by seeing your dad and then deal with what the next step might be with her. It also gave Alexandra some time to think about if she really wanted to do this or if she was mostly doing it for you.

Clyde and Sheryl, on the other hand, were getting on like a house on fire. She was beyond smitten with him and he took the utmost care not to rush into things and to treat her like a goddess; coming to you to run ideas for dates by you and see if they were terrible, but they were all actually thoughtful and infuriatingly romantic, it was killing you bit by bit.

*

“She wants what?” – Jimmy almost choked on his beer.

“Kids, Jimmy, she wants kids. Soon.” – Clyde was speaking in his quiet, discreet tone even though they were the only people in the bar.

“How did that come up?” – Jimmy pressed on, surprised they were discussing something like that so soon.

“I dunno, we were talkin’ and she was sayin’ how she was so surprised and happy that we got along so well and… I dunno… Somehow it just came up that she’s always wanted a big family, that’s why she got married so young. And then she was thinkin’ for a while that might not happen fer her…”

“Oh, poor thing.” – Mellie chimed in, tapping her nails on her empty shot glass.

Clyde paused at that comment, face grim, feeling a weight of responsibility – whether he stepped up and was the man she needed or he… wasn’t and became another man who let down and hurt this lovely woman, his life would inevitably change with this relationship.

Jimmy studied his brother for a bit before speaking. – “So. What do _you_ want?”

“I mean… I want a family of my own. I want kids.” – Clyde’s voice got smaller and smaller, as if it were quite difficult to admit to this. Watching Sadie come into the world and grow up and how it enriched his brother’s life, it was an actual miracle. You couldn’t be cynical about it.

“Good, then Sheryl’s exactly what you need.” – Mellie shrugged, like it was a done deal. Had Jimmy and Clyde been alone, they definitely would have talked about how you factor into Clyde’s decision, but Mellie wasn’t a fan of your relationship and they rarely brought you up in her presence. From the get go, she claimed Clyde would eventually develop feelings for you and get hurt and she was not about to encourage that. Well, joke was on her, Clyde had developed feelings instantly and as for getting hurt… That was par for the course for him. Mellie didn’t even know about the whole coaching/emotional support aspect of your relationship as both brothers correctly assumed heads would roll if she did. – “Ya need a strong, smart girl like Sheryl who knows what she wants and what’s good fer you and you’ll be a great couple.”

Mellie had taken on a mothering role that really didn’t suit a younger sister, it should have been the other way around, but she was smart and, like her brothers, had to grow up fast. So now, she had goals for them that a mother might – to see them in good stable relationships and to get some more nieces and nephews out of them. This meant she sometimes fell into the same trap parents did, of latching on to this idea and not listening to any hang-ups her brothers, who in her view still had a lot of growing up to do, might express.

Clyde didn’t really hold it against her and damn it if she wasn’t right most of the time, but none of what she said really seemed to settle his nerves.

Jimmy finally spoke up, weighing his sister’s words and what he saw on Clyde’s face. – “You _are_ always draggin’ yer feet, waitin’ for god knows what, maybe this is some sorta sign.” – he offered less fiercely than Mellie. – “You’ve wanted this girl for a long time and you’ve got ‘er and, good news, she’s in it for the long haul, she wants a family.” – the more he thought and spoke about it, the more it was kind of making sense. He knew for sure that his brother would be an outstanding husband and father and maybe fate was finally putting someone worthy of his good qualities in his path. – “It’s amazing, I’m tellin’ you, havin’ a kid is the best, you’ll love it.” – he grinned from ear to ear, remembering how scary fatherhood seemed to him before Sadie came along, but after taking one look at her, it was the greatest and most natural thing in the world to love that little bug. – “You’ll love it too, by the way, don’t think that time is standing still for you.” – he nudged Mellie, reminding her that they were eagerly awaiting for her to share any news about her and Joe.

“This isn’t about me!” – she protested, not wanting to hear her brothers reiterate how they are fine with Joe, they can deal with him and even accept Sam and Fish as in-laws, just don’t have a shotgun wedding, is all. Idiots.

*

Later that night, the bar was packed and, boy, was it an eclectic mix. You juggled between five different personalities; hanging out with your team from work who were there celebrating a record quarter and the good news that when Bryan came to visit, they would all have a long weekend. Also in attendance was Mellie, with her group of friends, including Alexandra. So you had a tightrope to walk of being nice to her and affectionate to Alex, but not too forward. Jimmy and Sylvie’s presence meant that someone was thankfully there to cover you with Clyde and keep the part of your relationship which the patrons needn’t know about under wraps, which was good because Sheryl was there too. Oh, the joy. Apparently, she had a work trip coming up, so she wanted to spend as much time with her boyfriend as she could before going.

You were surrounded by your work friends on one side and Jimmy and Sylvie on the other, with Sheryl chatting to them and sitting right at the middle of the bar with Mellie, where Clyde spent the most time, when Mellie’s friends came in. Most of them came up to her first to say hello, but Alex came over to you and gave you a nice, warm hug. Your eyes stupidly darted over in Clyde’s direction as she was whispering some joke in your ear and you felt a bit guilty and surprised to find him looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You’d gotten good catching his eyes whether he wanted you to or not, and you certainly didn’t want to now, this whole night and group of people around had to be nerve wracking for him. But you were putting in an honest effort to be on your best behavior.

“Back so soon?” – Jimmy was not so on board with ignoring the multiple elephants in the room though Sylvie was trying to restrain him.

“Yeah, I was itchin’ to head back here.” – Alex smiled as she clapped him on the shoulder.

“What’s so interestin’ over here all of a sudden? I remember when Mellie would complain about yer not visitin’ home for months.” – Jimmy spun on his stool to have a look at her. She was a pretty thing, he couldn’t really blame you.

Others, who didn’t know what exactly he was aiming at, joined good-naturedly in ribbing their friend about how she’s too fancy to visit home that often nowadays and Clyde supplied his brother with another glass and a stern _Jimmy_ before he could make things worse.

“Aw, leave the poor gal alone, I travel a lot for work too, don’t nobody give me a hard time.” – Sheryl chimed in when she started feeling like the group was ganging up on Alex and she felt like she should offer some support.

“Besides, my time off, my choice.” – Alex shrugged contentedly. Then she leaned in to answer Jimmy’s original question, but it was loud enough for the group to hear. - “I also just got me a little baby turtle, I gotta come by and visit the little sweetheart.”

“And does she have a name?” – Jimmy inquired, innocently enough.

Thankfully, you never got to hear an answer as Sylvie picked up on Alex’s former statement. – “Oh, speakin’ of time off, what are ya’ll doin’ this summer? I know you got that weddin’ comin’ up soon.” – she threw it over to you and you were happy to bury Jimmy’s question.

“Yeah, I’m so excited to go, I’ll get to see so many people I haven’t seen in ages. It’s gonna be great! And you guys?” – you motioned to her and Jimmy.

“We’ll be visiting my parents for sure and my dad wants to take this one fishin’. I think it’s some form of initiation.” – Sylvie joked, but before Jimmy could rejoin the conversation and potentially wreak havoc, she spun around to talk to Sheryl. - “And you, honey? Ya takin’ any time off? Can they spare your consulting wisdom for a week or two?”

“Well, they’ll have to come get me at Disney World otherwise.” – she laughed. – “My sister’s been plannin’ this trip to Florida for months, I really didn’t get a say.”

“So no romantic getaway with my brother over here?” – Jimmy prodded, happy that they were pretty openly dating now and he could finally talk about at least one of you without biting his tongue.

“I mean, sign me up, I’d love it, but it was just too short notice.” – Sheryl was biting back a happy little smile thinking about doing something like that with Clyde and you were just grateful that the attention was off you for the moment and you didn’t have to be fake excited.

“Short notice or not, ya need to get out from behind that bar.” – Jimmy scolded.

“I been gettin’ out plenty.” – Clyde fired back before some of Mellie’s friends howled and ohh’d, prompting Sheryl to genuinely erupt in blushes and cover her face.

“He’s right, when was your last vacation?” – Mellie backed him up and you would have agreed, but you kept your trap shut – the less attention, the better.

He wouldn’t call it a vacation, but he did take a few days off when he was renovating the bar in the fall. They probably wouldn’t think that counts.

Mercifully, your work friends were bored with the conversation and there was a familial air to it that kept them from joining in all that much, so when someone asked if you wanted to play some pool, you jumped at the chance. Alex followed you, happy to leave the previous group, and you were off, feeling like a weight lifted as soon as you put some distance between the Logans and their various lovers.

*

Sheryl spent the night at Clyde’s and they had a cozy, lazy, sexy late Saturday morning together before he excused himself to catch up on some work at the bar, promising to be back later in the afternoon.

He felt compelled to see you and talk about what was on his mind – he wanted to try to avoid the baby talk, but see where you stood on making a choice you don’t feel 100% was right, but the rest of the world was telling you was.

You had hiked over and let yourself in with the key he had made for you and you were stewing in your own bad mood when he came in.

Your real issue was nothing to do with him, but smelling a faint scent of a woman’s perfume on his shirt as he bent down to hug you wasn’t helping. - “Yer lookin’ a bit dour.” – Clyde immediately picked up on your vibe and sat opposite you. You tried to shake it off, but he wasn’t having it. – “No, no, come on, out with it.”

“I don’t even know where to start, my whole week is ruined, basically.” – you shrugged.

He knew how much you were looking forward to it all and he couldn’t imagine what could have happened between last night and now to ruin it.

“Well, first off, Bryan stood me up.” – you laughed, but did feel let down. – “He can’t come because this whole conference thing came up.” - Clyde looked at your expectantly, so you sighed and continued. - “There is some small business conference that he couldn’t get into initially, but now some guys dropped out and he’s frantically preparing for it. And he needs me back at headquarters to help, I’m leaving tomorrow. Which is good, it’s great, it really raises his profile and helps the company and it’s amazing that it’s happening…” – you reasoned, more with yourself than with Clyde, as he was yet again watching you put yourself second and wear your brave your face for the world.

“And you won’t get to go to the weddin’?” – he asked, realizing from your explanation that this sounded like a several day long commitment.

“No, I will, I’ll just fly out a day late. And show up like a loser, all alone and miserable, and miss all the pre-parties and ugh.” – you shook your head.

Clyde never fancied himself someone who was good at comforting others, but this felt like a moment to at least try. – “That’s too bad. But at least… you’ll be there on the big day? That must be a fun time. And you’ll see yer dad.”

“Ugh, more like I’ll embarrass him. Arriving a day late, disrupting everyone’s schedule. Being the old ass baby-less spinster.” – you half-joked and Clyde laughed at the idea of you embarrassing anybody more than at the joke attempt.

“I guess it ain’t fun goin’ to a wedding alone.” – he cast his eyes to the floor, fighting an impulse to try to save the day somehow.

“Yeah. I don’t know what it is with this crop of diplomat babies, but I swear, they all got married at 23 and are on baby number two by now. I was counting on Bryan to just bore everyone with business talk, so we can just dance and drink together like in college. But now that’s not happening. And getting plastered alone is so much sadder than… getting plastered with your boss.”

“This is really upsetting you, isn’t it?” - Clyde asked after watching you grimace and try to push it aside.

“I didn’t think it would, again, because I was counting on Bryan. But I guess it is; it’s all my friends seeing me after so much time and I don’t know what to say to any of them, really.”

“How about ‘This is Clyde Logan, I’m teaching him how to live’?” – he offered.

You snorted at the thought of introducing him like that. – “Why not? He’s the only real friend I’ve made in all this time. How are you seven children? Where do you keep all their tiny shoes? I imagine they’re scattered around everywhere like Legos.” – you continued joking, but Clyde knew by now which jokes you made lightheartedly and which were masking actual discomfort, and these were doubtlessly the latter.

“Do you, uh, need to pass any clearance or anythin’?” – he asked as casually as he could.

“No, not anymore since I won’t be able to fly out with dad. I’ll just look and pray there are any flights available for Athens the day after. Probably have to have five layovers.” – you muttered, rolling your eyes at how much hassle that would probably inevitably be.

“That sounds good. I could live with that.” – Clyde nodded, thinking.

“What do you mean?” – you were genuinely lost.

“Well, I’m kind of boldly inviting myself to be yer plus one. And I’m hopin’ you won’t disinvite me cuz I kind of like the idea of finally getting to be there fer you.” – he explained as your heart leaped into your throat. It never crossed your mind to put him on the spot in any way and you never would have thought he would consider doing something like this.

Your heart lodging in your esophagus and the butterflies in your stomach were fun, but reality kicked back in soon and you put your head in your hand, resting on the bar, wistfully. – “You’re too precious. But it’s crazy; this is in a few days and it’s so much more complicated now than it needed to be, and you gotta work, and it’s gonna be infuriatingly expensive and there’s just no way--”

He put a finger on your mouth to silence you and there was a resolute look in his eyes that you may never have seen before and that shut you up more than the physical act. – “First off, it’s my bar, I can do what I want.” – Clyde started off slowly and with an understated force that was mesmerizing given how rarely he behaved that way. – “Plus, I deserve a vacation. And don’t ever worry about money, I got that covered.”


	13. Greece Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don’t have time today to finish it all since I fully plan on basking in this part of the story, but here’s a little snippet :) Fluff ahead.
> 
> And by the way, I've started writing a little Jude (Hungry Hearts) story, you can find that over on Tumblr, in case anyone else loves that troubled, soft boi as much as I do, I'll leave a link at the of the chapter :)

You really, _really_ admired your dad for his ability to travel around all the time on short notice. Because to drive out to Chicago for a few days, work under tremendous pressure, the way he pretty much always did, and then be put through the ringer to get to Greece nearly made you collapse.

Bryan was feeling great about the conference and thanked you profusely for your help before he had you chauffeured off to the airport, promising to keep you updated on what was going on. You took a flight from Chicago to Boston, where you met Clyde, who had already flown to North Carolina to get on this flight to Boston and was operating on no sleep and no nonsense, aware of how crazy your schedule for today was. You could barely contain your excitement and your solid from as you wanted to melt into a puddle over his gesture. It didn’t feel real until he was there and you were making a mad dash to catch your flight to Heathrow, where you could chill for a while before finally heading off to Athens. It should not have been humanly possible to make all of these on time and retain a semblance of sanity, but you somehow managed. It was only when you were in the hotel room you reserved months ago that you could finally relax and laugh hysterically at how you even pulled it off before passing out.

*

It was late in the afternoon when you woke up, needing absolutely everything, from coffee and food, to fresh air and to stretch your legs. So it was decided you’d have the Greekest meal you could muster and then go walking around Athens for a bit.

As you were walking to the restaurant, you explained the difference between kalimera and kalispera for good morning and evening, as well as yasas, which was easier to remember and, like aloha, could be used at the beginning and end of an interaction, and to thank people with efharisto. Once there, you were craving some kolokythokeftedes, which was a pleasure to see Clyde learn to pronounce, even using all the correct monophthongs and stress on the penultimate syllable. After that and some moussaka, it was time for coffee and dessert, so you suggested ellinikos and amygdalota.

“So what are those?” – Clyde asked unabashedly, with a soft glow of infatuation around him, not caring it’s the tenth time, going through the menu with you.

“Well, ellinikos is just Greek coffee, but they brew it in this adorable copper pot, briki, you’ll see. And it’s good and strong. And amygdalota--”

“A-myg-da-lo-ta.” – he repeated on instinct and your eyes twinkled joyously at how he was enjoying these little things.

“Perfect. It’s an almond cookie, oh my god, it’s so good. And I mean, of course, you’ll try some baklava because, fun fact, they legally don’t allow you to leave Greece if you don’t, but we’ll do that tomorrow. Avrio.”

“Avrio.” – Clyde repeated, nodding, hoping he’d remember all those little foreign phrases that he, honestly, had nothing to relate to. – “How many languages _do_ ya speak, darlin’?” – he asked.

You smiled at this gentle creature before you, now countless miles away from home, unable to ignore the change in his demeanor now that he didn’t need to worry about unwelcome eyes and ears. – “However many it is, Greek is not of them. I wish. I know about ten words and seven of them are food names. And full disclosure, I did bone up on a few before the trip, I’m sure Yiorgos or some of his family will want to see how much I remember.”

Soon it was time to walk off all that food, so you took to the streets and headed in the direction of the Acropolis. You would see it up close tomorrow, of course, you wanted Clyde to get as much as possible out of this trip given the tremendous favor he was doing for you, but it was over two miles away, most museums and other fun things were winding down for the night and you were both tired, so you just settled for coming up close enough to see it overlooking the city, stopped to listen to some street musicians playing the bouzouki and a guitar and you tipped them with the money you had after dinner, before heading back. The tourist season had already started there and there were a lot of people, from all over, heading in all directions, often bumping into you or squeezing in between and you both often had to look around to find the other. Another phrase, signomi, to excuse himself as he weaved around strangers, was useful, but Clyde was soon over this, so he took your hand, wrapped it around his left arm, so you were close together and people would stop separating you.

You had been walking slowly this way for a little while, each lost in their own thoughts. – “You should do this more often.” - you stated gently.

“Go to Greece for a wedding?” – Clyde asked.

You bumped him with your hip in response, to get serious. – “No, take some time off. Do something fun and spontaneous. You look really content.”

“I am really content.” – he retorted, kissing your temple, like that first kiss you gave him at that parking lot. He had been thinking about that, and other similar occasions, all day.

“Good. Oh!” – you stopped and pointed at a store, seeing some ouzo on the shelves. You popped in to buy a bottle before heading back to the hotel.

*

Back at the hotel, already in your PJs, you toasted to your trip and the upcoming wedding.

“Stini yamas!” – you exclaimed.

“Stini yamas!” – Clyde retorted, knocking the shot back. 

By the time you wound down your nighttime routine in the bathroom, Clyde was already in bed, reading some tourist brochures with interest, waiting for you to get in.

Knowing tomorrow would be a hectic day and not wanting to get too sentimental the day after, on your last day there, you thought now may be the best time to thank him in earnest.

You sat on his side of the bed, leaning into his lap with the lack of room and supporting yourself with an arm planted on the other side of his hip. He looked up from the brochure with interest and before you even began, rested his prosthetic on your waist.

“I hope it’s clear that I appreciate you on any given day, but I just wanted to say I really, _really_ appreciate what you’re doing for me. I’m so happy and so excited to be here with you.”

“You are? You won’t mind spendin’ all day and night with me, drinkin’, dancin’….” – he asked, putting the brochure down to move your hair over your shoulder.

The ouzo, and something else, was burning up in your stomach and you got giggly. – “Not at all.” – you said before leaning in and hugging him tightly. He hugged you back, bunching up all your hair into his hand and holding it around the back of your neck, nuzzling closer. Feeling him kiss your shoulder ever so softly made you shudder all the way down to your toes and squirm away a bit, feeling self-conscious over your reaction. Your hand was on his shoulder, supporting you, trying not to completely sit in his lap. Clyde was obviously satisfied with your body’s response, because he was biting back a smile, eyes dark and shining in the half-light of the room.

“Alright, then.” – he nodded before moving his hand under your chin and tilting your head in position to give you a kiss. You remembered the exact soft touch of his lips on yours from the last time, even before they brushed up against you now. He savored the moment for a few beats before you felt him slowly smile and nuzzle into your cheek before leaning back. – “Let’s get to sleep, darlin’, we have a long day tomorrow.”

*

[Jude story](https://in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather.tumblr.com/post/625292078034845696/nobodys-wife-chapter-1)


	14. Make her feel special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've added another chapter of the Jude story over on Tumblr, I'll link that at the end :)

The following morning, you let Clyde sleep in as much as possible. After all, he had had the longest day, or two days, just before and, if even half of what your dad warned you to prepare for today was true, it would be some of the most exhausting 24 hours of both your lives. Besides, he could just grab a shower, pop on his suit and he was ready. You, on the other hand, like hundreds of other female guests in attendance that day, had to get up early, exfoliate, shave, rub, pluck, condition, cauterize, curl, straighten, perfume, paint, plump, matte down, glow up and don’t forget to smile.

So before the maelstrom, you settled on petting his beautiful hair and kissing it softly, pondering what sort of dangerous game you’d begun playing last night, before getting up as quietly as possible to iron and hang both your outfits up.

When breakfast and coffee were ready, your fluffy bear arose from his hibernation, all puffy and bleary, but sporting a dopey smile. He lumbered over and gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“You shoulda woken me up earlier. Ya did all this alone?” – he looked around the room, clothes hung, table spread out.

“I ordered all of this.” – you motioned to the table, taking a sip of coffee. – “And you needed to rest. I was gonna say today is a marathon, not a sprint. But seeing as it will end early tomorrow morning probably, really it’s just a super extended sprint and we might need a couple or 8-balls to get through it. So you should take any opportunity to relax.”

“You can stop sellin’ me on it, I’m already here.” – Clyde dismissed your warning, feeling genuinely excited for the whole affair.

*

After breakfast, he was lounging on a chair opposite you, reading up on Greek weddings as you were doing your hair and makeup. In truth, he was more peering at you over the screen, relishing this time alone with you and seeing your transformation from the beautiful lady you always were into the same beautiful lady, but dressed and made up to absolute wedding perfection. You were like a living doll, it really wasn’t fair to do this to him. God, when you changed into your dress, he was sure his heart would explode.

You tried to keep things with your hair and makeup as simple as possible, as something would inevitably go wrong and it would be easier to fix a simple thing than something really intricate. This meant you had a little bit of unexpected free time before the car came to pick you up and take you to the bride’s house. You were still in your nightgown as it allowed you to get ready and not smudge anything and Clyde was in a shirt and basketball shorts, trying not to crease up your wedding getups. It was a bit bizarre to be that made up, that early in the morning and just hanging around a hotel room.

Clyde whipped up ouzo lemon spritzers and offered one to you. – “Why the hell not?” – you shrugged and took it.

“Stini yamas!” – he clinked your glass with his and you cheered as well, happy he was remembering the stuff you mentioned yesterday.

You had enough time to run him through the major events leading up to the ceremony and getting to the church before popping into the bathroom to put on your dress and let him put on his suit. You came out to take a look in the full length mirror and see if you needed to adjust anything. Clyde’s mouth fell open and he thought of something to say, but nothing he could think of really conveyed what he was feeling. He just clapped his hand over his mouth and shook his head gently, taking you in from head to toe, every angle he could see, eyes overflowing with wonder.

Speechlessness, it turns out, is just about the most flattering compliment and you had to fight with yourself not to grin like the Cheshire cat as you came over to him. – “You need a little help?” – you asked, holding his open shirt with your thumb and index finger.

He just nodded, transfixed, hand still holding his jaw closed. You pried it away to smooth the shirt down and got to work on the pesky, tiny buttons, thrilled to get a little closer to him. As you got higher and closer to his face, it was difficult to hide your quivering chin and the smile you were trying to rein in and you knew from the cock of his head to side he was enjoying seeing you crack. You burst into excited giggles at the same time and you play-hit him in the chest. – “Stop it! This is serious, delicate business.” – you admonished, sliding the tie off his shoulder and reaching up to place it under his popped collar.

As you were tying it, Clyde slowly hunched over and hovered over your face for a second, remembering something. – “I’m gonna ruin yer pretty makeup.” – he muttered in disappointment to himself before straightening up again. You let him stay that way for a second as you finished tying the knot and only had to fix the tie into place.

“You can ruin it.” – you stated nonchalantly, finding the right level of tightness and centering it.

“I can?” – his eyebrows shot up at the invitation and he lowered himself again with a very satisfied look on his face. He left feather soft kisses down the side of your face, really trying not to ruin your hard work, and continued along your jaw and neck, getting sloppier and more intense there as you curled your body into his and grabbed his shoulders for support. When your jelly legs did give out and you had to take a step back and steady yourself, Clyde tried to smooth his hair back into place, looking thoroughly intoxicated. After a deep steadying breath, you helped with his hair and had to threaten him with an index finger to the face as he seemed to be going in for another round. He chewed his lip and followed you out the door, catching up and taking the big bag you were carrying with all the miscellaneous junk you might need throughout the day and you just kept your clutch in your hand.

“You just stay in your corner.” – you warned, though any severity was undercut by your grin.

He leaned up against the elevator wall and nodded, still eating you up with his eyes.

“And keep your eyes in your corner too, please, I’m dying over here.” – you cast your eyes up helplessly, understanding why he would make so little eye contact in the past, it was so difficult.

“Alright, darlin’.” – he complied, shuffling around to face the wall comically and you were shocked to find that even facing the corner, he made you feel flustered. You admired how handsome he looked in the suit, which was obviously tailored to fit him perfectly and were already looking forward to the point in the night when he would take off the tie and jacket and be dancing with you.

The elevator dinged and you took him around the elbow. – “Let’s go, smartass.”

*

Marius’ parents planned well in advance and came to pick you in a 7 seater van. Clyde added your big bag to the pile that Marius’ mom and another guest already brought and joined you in the back two seats. You introduced Clyde and were in turn introduced to the couple sitting in front of you, acquaintances of Marius’ he offered to escort to the event.

Marius and his parents inquired over Bryan and expressed they were sorry he couldn’t make it as they’d met him before, but welcomed Clyde warmly and told him to prepare for a fun day; the Greek were fun and enthusiastic hosts. Questions were exchanged about Bryan’s work and how everyone was finding Athens and Clyde was happy not to have to answer any direct questions, his focus torn between telling his hand not to rest on your thigh and trying not to jealously size up Marius.

It was tradition to pick the bride up from her home before heading to church, but because the guests couldn’t exactly fly to Canada to do that, Diane was waiting at Yiorgos’ house for his koumbaro, basically best man, to come pick her up and get her the shoes she’d be wearing that day. After she jotted down the names of her single friends on the bottom so that they would be scuffed off by end of the day, thus ensuring their own marriages would come soon, and the guests were offered refreshments and danced around a bit, it was time to head to the church.

There was already a crowd there and you were eager to see your dad before the ceremony. He had texted you where he was, a little distance away and Marius’ parents dropped you off there to meet him and then drove with a silent prayer to hopefully find a parking spot.

Holding your dad for the first time in many months, after that awful scare, felt like nothing you had experienced before. It was like you had gone through purgatory and were granted another chance at life. He offered a few words of comfort, devoid of usual dad humor and, boy, those waterproof mascara and eyeliner were paying dividends.

“Now, come on, pull yourself together; I want to meet this Clyde boy and I don’t need you crying and embarrassing me.” – he joked as he wrapped your arm around his.

“He’s a grown man and _you_ don’t embarrass _me_ , please.” – you fired back and headed in the direction of the church.

People were being seated and your little group just kept growing and growing, now standing in a rather large circle, saying hello to Yiorgos’ parents. You ran up to his mom and she gave you a tight hug. – “Oh my goodness, look at you! Eísai panémorfos! Let me talk to you after the wedding, this is crazy!” – she spread out your arms to look at you. – “You’re beautiful. I must go!” – she was so excited and trying to make everyone feel welcome and good, it was adorable.

“Come on, Maria, your sister needs you.” – Stavros shook your dad’s hand before taking his wife away and handling stuff inside.

“Where do we go?” – you asked, still hanging on your dad’s arm and extending a hand for Clyde to take.

“I don’t know, I just know we’re on the right, with the groom’s guests.” – your dad shifted his attention to Clyde and greeted him with his practiced diplomatic smile. – “Good to meet you, young man. I’m glad you’re here with you daughter.”

“So am I, sir.” – Clyde responded in that stoic, military way you’d seen many people converse with your dad at official events and you had to roll your eyes.

“Why don’t we get going?” – you suggested, sandwiched between your two favorite men in the world, feeling pretty damn great.

*

Orthodox ceremonies tended to run a bit long, especially a fancy one like this, and they seemed even longer when you didn’t know the language.

“This is the betrothal part of the ceremony. They’re exchanging rings back and forth to symbolize their union – they’ll repeat everything three times.” – you explained to Clyde as the koumbara, the maid of honor, slipped the rings on and off their right ring finger three times. After several prayers, two candles were lit and the second part of the ceremony started, with the koumbaro doing a similar thing with the crowns to be placed on the couple’s head as they held the other’s right hand. Then they drank from the same cup three times and Clyde offered up a tidbit he read that morning. - “And when they drink from the same cup, it means their happiness will double and their sorrows will be only half as sad. Now that’s beautiful.” – he stated as he looked at you, tearing his eyes from the ceremony.

“It is.” – you nodded, taking his hand with both of yours and holding it in your lap.

“Don’t be canoodling in church.” – you dad jokingly admonished, leaning in so only you could hear him.

“Stop c-blocking, dad.” – you mimicked his same tone and he a loud snort broke forth from him, which he then had to try to disguise as a cough.

“Fair enough.” – he whispered when he regained some composure.

The ceremony concluded with the couple going around the table in front of the altar three times, kissing the cross and then having the priest remove their crowns and separate their hands, announcing they are united and only God can separate them now.

Hectic wrangling ensued as all the guests gathered to take a big group photo in front of the church and toss rice as the couple left.

*

At the reception hall, your dad and some other people were already in their seats and Yiorgos’ parents were with him, eager to hear it from his own lips that he was okay and he wasn’t in danger. You let them talk while you settled in and checked in with Clyde.

“What are these?” – he asked, pointing at the little arrangement of white Jordan almonds placed in everyone’s plate.

“It’s koufeta, they’re a wedding favor.” – you started when Stavros turned his attention to you and came over to explain it to his guests.

“We give them to the guests at the wedding. They’re almonds and it’s a mix of salty and sweet flavor. Like marriage. Sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter. Ow!” – he playfully backed away from his wife who hit him on the shoulder. – “With Maria, my life is so sweet I don’t even take sugar in my coffee. As you can clearly see.” – he shrugged and the guests laughed. – “It’s always in odd numbers because it can’t be divided, like the married couple. We usually give five, for health, happiness, fertility, wealth and a long life.”

Maria spoke to you next. - “You take the koufeta and put in under your pillow.”

“Me in particular?” – you asked, taking it into your hand.

“Yes, it is a Greek tradition for an unmarried woman to put the koufeta under her pillow so she will dream of her future husband.” – she explained and you reflexively put it back into the plate, not knowing about this secondary meaning, kicking yourself for asking.

“Ah. Here we go.” – you nodded, bracing yourself for the inevitable _you’re next_ talk all single girls endure at weddings.

With many other guests to say hi to, Stavros and Maria soon left. While you waited for Yiorgos and Diane to come back with their bridesmaids and groomsmen from getting their pictures taken, you had some food and drinks and chatted away with the people at your table. You were hoping to get others talking and you dad kindly followed your lead, trying to let Clyde relax and not be too scrutinized. You mostly wanted to prevent people from bringing up any touchy subjects, like his military service and injury, which you didn’t discuss much even privately. Your crazy trip over here was funny enough to fill up a few minutes of conversation and you thought you were in the clear; with a table full of diplomats, you could sit around talking about crazy trips for days.

“Aww, how sweet; he did all that just to be here with you today?” – some girl you just met that was seated across from you was obviously in a romantic mood. She looked from you to him, sizing up how you looked as a couple.

You were tongue-tied for a second and Clyde stepped up, in his own humble way. - “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good man.” – your dad nodded his approval, tucking into some delicious pastry that you suddenly had the urge to shove all the way into his face.

The bridesmaids and groomsmen started filing into the room, one pair at a time, announcing the newlyweds were soon to follow. And when they did, they put on a show.

They burst through the door amid cheers and whistles and took the floor for what looked to be their first dance. But then came a loud smashing sound. And another. And then another.

They had broken several white plates which now lay in smithereens all over the floor and the music picked up, fast and loud and joyous.

This would likely happen several more times during the night, but you would bet anything Yiorgos chose this moment to do it just to take any foreign guests unaware of the tradition by surprise. Soon, one of the servers ran out with a whole stack of plates, taking one and smashing up all the others with it, then smashing that one on the ground. Some people joined hands and started dancing a traditional dance, while others grabbed plates of their own and started smashing with different flourishes, like spiking them into the ground or jumping and tossing them between their legs. If any plate didn’t smash, it was dutifully picked up and thrown again until it did.

You couldn’t resist breaking one yourself and before you knew it, you and Marius exchanged looks and he was lending you a hand so you could run in your heels, through the crowd and snatching some.

“Be careful!” – Clyde called after you, always expecting some disaster. 

“Don’t worry, they’re plaster!” – you called back, squealing as you threw it and watched it vanish into the growing pile.

“It’s safe.” – you dad reassured, holding his shoulder in support as he recognized that this mountain of a man really did worry for you.

“I’ve seen it before, I just never know why they do it.” – Clyde changed the topic, not wanting to look like a wuss to your dad.

“I’ve heard a lot of explanations for it, but my favorite is that it would keep evil spirits at bay because they would believe the people breaking plates were angry and upset instead of celebrating. So they would leave them alone.”

Clyde nodded, understanding this superstition better than you dad could have imagined.

Now this was something he could identify with. Today had been so wonderful, from the second he opened his eyes to right now, every last thing filled him with joy and ecstasy, all he wanted was for the day never to end, nothing to change.

*

[Nobody's wife - Chapter 2](https://in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather.tumblr.com/post/625829629292429314/nobodys-wife-chapter-2)


	15. Evil man

  


During the reception, all the diplomats were absolute sluts for Clyde. They would come up to say hello to your dad and get the scoop on what recently happened to him, then Clyde would be nearby since he was at the same table and get introduced as your date. Then, two sentences later, it would inevitably come out that he has served in the military and got injured in the line of duty and you could practically hear all the blood rush to their diplomatic boners, wanting all the behind the scenes. He was the belle of the ball, being able to provide insight as somebody who has seen combat and been around military officials when nobody else was around. Apart from being in awe of him psychically, all of them conferred great respect on him. Clyde found them easy to talk to; it was never like this when he was talking to civilians, they just did not understand. And that was fine, that was the point – the military was there so that people like his family did not need to know what he knew. If he was being honest, the attention and admiration from these people did flatter him and he stopped feeling out of place soon.

You had been off dancing with all the girls; it was common to have a separate dance with the ladies and one for men where each got to show off their skills. You brushed up on one of the easier dances that Yiorgos that taught you years ago and were adequately keeping up at the beginning, but then, uh-oh, a bunch of gorgeous, lithe girls split off and moved over to the start of the line, changing which dance was being danced. It was all sorts of legs tangling, going back and forth, side to side and forward and backward? Nope. You were in over your head there and done.

Clyde had been watching you when he could spare a moment, but the growing group of salt and pepper haired dapper gentleman around him was completely entranced and hung on his every word.

You came up and had to actually shove your way over to him a little bit through the crowd of his fans and were satisfied that your inelegant entrance made the chatter stop.

“So you tapped out?” – your dad asked nodding to the line of girls still dancing.

“Yup. I mean…” – you turned to see them twirling and basically river dancing at an unforgiving speed. – “That’s just showing off.” – you pulled Clyde’s arm closer and asked pointedly – “Shall we go get a drink? I’m parched.”

With everybody in the group good and aware that they were not invited, he excused himself and accompanied you to the table.

“That was… uncharacteristically rude.” – Clyde quipped, trying to hold back a smirk.

“You know what’s rude? Stealing a girl’s date.” – you quipped right back as you poured yourself a drink.

“Well, well, well, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were bein’ jealous.”

You looked at him dead in the eyes, completely serious. – “Of course I am. If they wanna talk to you all night, they can bring you to their own wedding. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” – he took a glass you offered him and toasted you.

“Are you having a good time?” – you asked with genuine interest as he finished drinking.

“I am. I really, really am.” – he reassured you, placing a hand on your knee and rubbing his thumb over the skin of your thigh and _for once_ , you didn’t feel nervous about this. It was like you were out of space and time, no West Virginia, just you two and zero guilt. – “I just wish we had more time together.”

“Yeah?” – you leaned closer, resting your head on your hand and he leaned in too, taking in your features and the dreamy look in your eyes, all for him. – “Am I gonna have to punch the next diplomat who vies for your attention?”

“If ya think it’s necessary.” - he shrugged, closing the gap between you even more, brushing his lips against one corner of your mouth, then the other, and nuzzling before you grew tired of not kissing him and steadied his face with a hand, sinking into a gentle, someone-else’s-wedding-appropriate kiss.

It was difficult to talk about the things you really needed to discuss in the middle of this reception, so he just took your hand and set about kissing every knuckle and patch of skin and caressing it against his face while you smoothed his hair and watched him close his eyes in the ecstasy of your touch.

You could have happily just stayed there until it was time to leave, but alas, it was not to be. After a while, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see Marius.

“They’re about to play our song, so I had to come over and ask you to dance.” – he informed you and waited for you to get up and join him.

“Well… this one’s not a diplomat.” – you said to Clyde.

He disengaged his lips from your palm, which he had been lavishing in kisses, and moved his eyes up to Marius’, but never let go of you.

“If Mr Logan doesn’t mind parting with you briefly.” – Marius added, always loving to stir the pot.

“Surely not, my dad’s friends are waiting for me get up for a second and hoping to meet Clyde at the business end of a gloryhole.” – you answered, getting up and giving Clyde a long kiss on the forehead and a quick one on those luscious lips and left with Marius.

As your song started to play, you shook your head. – “Did you really have this song play at our friend’s wedding? Imagine he did that to you.”

“Well, I know for a fact Yiorgos lost his V-card in my car to carnival music when I was on the Ferris wheel. And I’m sure some German DJ can remix that to fit into our wedding.” – he replied, sliding a hand from your back to your waist. – “You look beautiful, by the way. I would have said it before, but your bodyguard was always too close.”

“Well, you look beautiful too, doll!” – you replied exuberantly, not allowing the moment to become too intimate. And he did, his hair was fashionably coiffed and his skin immaculate. – “And he’s my date, not _just_ my bodyguard.”

“Wasn’t it supposed to be Bryan? I mean, I was preparing for your gay bestie to be here and for us to get a chance to reconnect and, I gotta be honest, my hopes are kind of dashed.”

“Well, you know Bryan. Plans change.” – you smiled, ignoring the second part of his statement.

_Always, I want to be with you_

_And make believe with you_

_And live in harmony, harmony, oh love_

He lip synced the chorus to you and, for old times’ sake, you let him and laughed it off, searching for Clyde with your eyes.

Your dad was with him, telling him something.

“Marius is… a cheeky fellow, let’s say. But he’s harmless.” – your dad observed, not missing that Clyde hadn’t taken his eyes off the two of you the entire time.

“Is that right?” – Clyde nodded, purportedly accepting his assurance.

“Oh, yes! I mean, he’s been joking to me he’s gonna marry my daughter for years and then he introduces me to his newest gal, he’s just a jokester.” – your dad laughed, never taking Marius seriously.

Clyde had to work to unclench his jaw enough to speak. – “All due respect, sir, who’s to say he’s not serious?”

You dad had to laugh, it was too preposterous to take Marius at face value. – “Clyde, I had the good fortune to meet my wife and know that very night she was who I wanted to marry. That was the one part of my life that was uncomplicated. Work, being a single father to a rebellious teenage girl, never having a permanent home – all those were unending challenges and questions. But one thing I could always tell is how a man looks at a woman he loves.” – he paused to take a breath and Clyde felt as vulnerable and transparent as a sheet of glass, thinking back to the night you walked into his bar and his whole life changed. It was easy to love you from afar, but to stand right next to your dad and be scrutinized in that merciless way parents can dissect their children’s partners made him queasy. He cast his eyes to the floor, too anxious to look at your dad. – “So believe me when I say, Marius is harmless.” – he clapped a hand on Clyde’s back in support and went over to the dance floor, to dance and have a quick chat with you.

You said goodbye to Marius until dinner and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before continuing to dance with your dad.

“Finally, I get a second with my daughter!” – he laughed.

“Yeah, it was a mistake coming here with two of the most popular guys, I can hardly get a moment alone with either of you.” – you responded, fixing his tie.

“And then the vultures swoop in.” – he joked, nodding his head over to Marius. – “Is he still going on about marrying you when you’re both grown up enough?”

“I think I got ahead of it this time. Or he’s finally accepting that the joke’s getting old.”

“That’s good. Wouldn’t want a German son-in-law, wouldn’t go over too well in Libya.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh, yes. The Germans and Libyans are natural enemies.”

“Well, I think you’re safe then.”

“But you know who I’ve always liked? These corn-fed fellas, all big and respectful.”

“Isn’t that something?” – you grinned, amused at your dad playing matchmaker since it was rather unlike him.

“It really is.”

“But you see, the problem with that is that West Virginia is less the breadbasket and more like mining country.” – you said, mock-concerned.

“Darn it. I guess I’ll have to make my peace with having little chimney sweep grandkids. That sounds okay too.”

You laughed, trying not to think of how adorable Clyde’s babies would be. – “You need to cut it out, that kind of talk gives me anxiety.”

Your dad shook his head. - “Oh my, I remember when you first learned about that word, you claimed everything gave you anxiety.”

“Everything does sort of give me anxiety.”

“Well, you can rest easy with that boy, he’s good people, I can tell. What is it that you kids say – game recognize game?” – he said, trying and failing to pull off a mean face.

“First off, that phrase is probably older than me. And I only know that song because of you. So _don’t even try to front_ , dad.” – you rolled your eyes, loving your eternally uncool father.

“Okay, okay. Does Clyde like rap?” – he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, the same way he always did when asking stupid questions about people you dated. _Does Marius like broccoli?,_ he asked once during lunch when you were a teen and sure he had no idea you had been fooling around with his colleague’s son.

“No… He likes… Patsy Cline?” – you shrugged.

“Oh!” – you dad exclaimed, like he received a vital piece of information. – “That tells me a lot.”

*

You were sure you could now finally relax over a drink with Clyde before dinner, but nope. Just as you were finishing your dance, a more traditional tune picked up and one of the local girls grabbed Clyde under the pretext of teaching him how to dance. You watched as he fumbled because he kept looking up to find you and apologize with his eyes, until the plucky gal gave up and just wrapped his arm around her and pulled him into a low-effort middle-school type dance. She was very cute and bubbly, asking him a million questions and looking at him with stars in her eyes. You watched them from your table, alternating between smiling at his freaked out expression and wanting to scratch her eyes out.

“I’m _so_ sorry, I couldn’t–” – Clyde couldn’t run-walk back to you fast enough, ready to apologize profusely, but you got up to meet him and just pulled him into a very someone-else’s-wedding inappropriate kiss, greedy and dizzying, only separating with a wet pop when someone yelled _Opa_ and smashed a plate behind you in celebration. You buried your head in his shoulder, to hide your giggles and regain your composure while all he could do was awkwardly look around and try to rein in his dopey grin.

You pulled him down to sit and tried to have some chit-chat with the people at your table, but you kept bumping against each other with your thighs, making the other lose their train of thought. When he was answering some question, you leaned in to listen, pushing some strands of hair, that you yourself pulled out of place, back where they should go, making him completely lose his place and have to shamefully ask the person to repeat the question he was halfway through answering already. He retaliated when someone started talking to you by leaning back in his chair and placing his big warm hand on the small of your back, slowly splaying it, sending shivers up your spine so much so that you actually visibly shuddered and had to jolt forward, away from him, to steady yourself. You decided this was not sustainable, or appropriate, so you took his hand and excused yourself, saying you saw somebody you wanted to introduce Clyde to.

Taking him to a bathroom seemed too tawdry, plus someone was bound to come in, so since everyone was already seated, disappearing behind the big welcome sign seemed as safe as it could get.

“You are an evil man.” – you shook your head at him, grinning, and leaned against the wall.

“And yer an evil woman.” – he grinned back, caging you in with a hand on the wall on either side of you. You hugged him around his exposed waist and pulled him roughly against you, letting him knock the air out of you and press you further into the wall, completely at the mercy of his ravishing kisses. You didn’t have much room to move, nor did you trust the stability of your legs, so when he began kissing and sucking down your neck, you could just barely lift your chin and gasp for air. As he was making you pant, the involuntary sounds he was drawing from you and your quivering body against his already made him half hard. He couldn’t resist cupping a breast, feeling it in his hand, tracing the curve and swell of it, feeling the material of your dress bunch up as he caressed it. His thumb found the nipple and circled over it until it sent a throb of pleasure to your core. You moaned and bit your lips shut to stop it, but Clyde kept going, hungry to hear it again. Fighting the urge to reach into his pants, you pressed harder into him, feeling his cock rub against you, slowly getting harder. Clyde was a vision, eyes hooded and hazy with lust, hair disheveled and lips glistening and kiss-swollen, and just looking at him made you gush and pulsate for him. Now you lamented not risking taking him to the bathroom, where you could unzip his pants, clap a hand over his delicious mouth and jerk him off fast and rough, till he was shaking and sweating under you, cumming all over himself and your hand; you just needed it. Needed to make him fall apart for you, it was all you could think about. Some commotion made you spring apart and try to make yourselves look semi-decent. It was another couple, clearly already drunk, and with the same idea as you, giggling and running away when they saw someone was already there.

“What do ya say we pick this back up when we get back to the hotel?” – Clyde asked, trying to adjust himself somehow to be able to return among the guests.

“You can count on it.” – you said, grabbing the sides of his mouth and squeezing, making him pout and sending him an air kiss before scurrying off to the bathroom to fix yourself back up.

*

After dinner, you spent your time getting progressively more tipsy and incrementally ignoring everyone else at your table, until you were seated in Clyde’s lap and amusing yourself by shifting around occasionally to feel his powerful thighs move and contract under you.

After about the third time you were left alone and started getting frisky, only to be apologetically interrupted by someone who came to check their phone or have a drink, Marius’ parents finally pulled the plug.

“I think our young friends are ready to leave.” - his mom noted, rallying everyone who was being dropped off in their van.

You didn’t have it in you to politely disagree, but just let your dirty thoughts paint your cheeks red and grabbed your belongings, stuffing them eagerly into your clutch.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Wedding afterparty and coming to terms with what you’re doing.  
> TW: angst, mentions of PTSD

  


*

As soon as you said goodbye to everyone, it was go time.

You truly couldn’t tell whose hands were where as you stumbled through the lobby and panted and gasped for air, almost drowning in kisses in the elevator.

But when you reached the door and you started looking through your big and small bag for the key, the frenetic energy was gone and Clyde completely switched gears.

He moved your hair out of the way, dragging his hand along your shoulders and chest, making a chill run up your spine and slowly coiled his arms around your middle, pressing into you and leaving slow searing kisses on the skin he exposed. Had he not been so busy with getting lost in the feel of your skin, he might have noticed how you missed the lock about four times and had to clench your fists to stop them from gently shaking.

Once you finally got the door open, he walked you in from behind, more carrying you with his arms still wrapped you and holding fast. You smiled, tossing the bags wherever they happened to land and stepping out of your shoes. When you put your hands on his arms, he understood you wanted him to slacken his hold, so he did and you turned to face him, pulling him into a kiss, making sure to thoroughly explore and adore his lips. You could just kiss him for hours, and considering how enthusiastically he kissed you back, it seemed like he could too.

You undid the buttons on his jacket and he stepped back, hating that he had to momentarily let you go, to take it off, and you took the time to quickly get out of your dress. Clyde had turned around, planning to put the jacket on a hanger or the back of chair, for some semblance of order, only to find you in your underwear, your pretty dress haphazardly discarded in a heap on the floor. You were right, who cares about putting clothes away in a moment like this, he thought, releasing the jacket and letting fall where it wanted to, he himself collapsing at the knees and landing on the bed, bobbing up and in awe of the sight in front of him.

You let yourself enjoy the look as you walked over to him, for once not having to doubt whether you saw it right, whether you were crazy, and not having to stop and push these feelings away.

You worked on unbuttoning his shirt as he laid his head against your chest, leaving soft, shy kisses there, hand going up and down your thigh, finally daring to run over your ass when you were done and helped him out the shirt. 

You made him lay down as you climbed over him, finally straddling him and stretching above him to keep kissing him. You couldn’t tell how long you indulged yourself in kisses, nips, caresses, every part of him felt amazing, to straddle, hold, touch, kiss, bite, you couldn’t hold yourself back.

Clyde enjoyed your attentions, feeling luckier and more desirable than he could ever remember feeling, and battling two instincts; the first, to just let himself be adored and lavished, which was making his heart feel like it would burst at any second, and the second, to flip you over under him and start chipping away at the mountain of all the things he wanted to do to you. When he couldn’t resist the second urge anymore, he held you again, pushing you up to sit on his lap and he sat up too, looking at you fiercely, making you panic all of a sudden.

“I…” – he breathed, chewing on his lower lip before he was able to continue. –“I really—“ – he started, looking for the right words to say, feeling like he had to tell you how he felt. You sat up straighter, panic making you shoot up and shut his mouth with a hand over it, the other arm wrapping around his neck and pulling him in.

“I know.” – you nodded, pressing a hard kiss into his forehead, feeling him struggle against you, wanting to keep talking. His chest was rising and falling quickly as his body filled with unshed sobs; when, when would he get to tell you? He felt like he could lose his mind having to stay silent again. Feeling him starting to go made you instantly tear up as well. – “I know, I know, I know.” – you assured him, nodding more as you removed your hand and replaced it with your lips, clawing at him and letting the kiss grow ferocious. You just couldn’t hear it, it couldn’t happen like this, you weren’t ready.

He held you just as tightly, making it impossible to breathe in, getting lost in the urgency and demands of your two bodies. He tossed you on the bed under him, laving every sensitive point on your body as he ground into you, your legs still around his waist. With your thighs and hands, you pushed his pants down when you couldn’t take not having him in you any longer and you both reflexively looked over at the nightstand.

The same realization struck you at the same moment; neither of you brought any condoms.

“Did you bring any—“ - you ask, knowing deep down it was pointless.

“No, I didn’t think I would— ”- … _need any,_ you could finish his sentence in your head.

Of course not.

You were both leaving your respective girlfriends behind, what on earth would possess him to bring condoms on that trip?

Tears of deep sadness and scorching embarrassment hit you fast and hard and you pulled a sheet over yourself, all the way over your head. Clyde was heartbroken to see your reaction, but glad too, that you didn’t have to see him break down just as much as you.

He wiped his eyes with his forearm as well as he could, tugging on the sheet gently to make you come out.

You sat up as you did, head low, shaking side to side. – “I’m sorry.”

“No, darlin’, I’m sorry, I’m sorry about… so many things.” – he jumped in, scooting closer to hold you, feeling ridiculous with his hair all mussed, pants halfway down his legs and a half-hard dick. What a man he was, huh?

He sat looking at you patiently, letting you work through whatever you needed and talk when you were ready. You were better at that, at everything, than him.

“How did we, how did I let this get so far? I’m sorry, plea-please, don’t hold it against me.” – you asked, looking at your fidgety hands in your lap.

“Gawd, no, no.” – he took your hands in his to stop the wringing. – “I’ve been dyin’ to… Shit.” – he cursed in front of you, for the first time that you could remember, a proper frustrated curse. – “I wish… you had said somethin’. Anythin’. When we kissed at the club. All those times in the mountains, I was always hopin’ against hope…”

“I was trying to give you your options, your freedom…”

“I didn’t want freedom, darlin’. I only wanted you.” – he said and a heavy silence settled between you.

“Me too.” – you admitted, voice feeble from the tears. – “I guess sometimes we don’t do the things we most want so others won’t know we want them. We don’t touch who we want to touch most…”

“..because we’d never stop. You think I don’t know that? Feel that as well?” - he huffed, resting his head on your shoulder, feeling hot and cold waves wash over him. – “How do I stop now?” – he wondered out loud, already feeling like he had squandered what should have been the best night of his life. – “Will it be easy for you to stop, darln’?” – he asked, needing to hear you talk some more, hoping you would say no, that you needed him as much as he needed you.

“No, of course not, I am barely holding myself together even now.” – you put a hand on his cheek and he immediately leaned into it, wanting to disappear into your touch. – “But you know that saying, how you get them is how you lose them? I don’t want..”

“I know, me neither.” – he stopped you, not wanting to talk about what was waiting for you back home. – “But tell me I can at least hold you. This one night.” – he begged, feeling his eyes sting again.

You just hugged him tightly in response, sinking into the bed, and you held each other in silence, you listening to the soft thumps of his heart, laying on his chest, and he listening to the clock tick, until you drifted off to sleep.

*

At some point during the night, you were roused from your sleep as you felt Clyde get restless beneath you. You realized he was breathing pretty hard, and as you separated from him, realized he was covered in a sheen of sweat. His face was screwed up, like he was in pain and, as you were finding your balance to sit up, he was starting to thrash more and more.

You realized he was having a nightmare, but he seemed so overwhelmed and desperate that you wished you could do something to stop.

You tried reaching out, not sure if it was a good idea to touch him or try to wake him, but he was convulsing and thrashing so much that your hand was violently slapped away before you ever got close, making you recoil and almost fall backwards out of the bed. You somehow stumbled to your feet, not avoiding knocking into the nightstand first and Clyde shot up in bed, bewildered and panting.

You stood against the wall, eyes full of tears, watching him gradually adjust to being awake and whatever terror was tormenting him being gone, until he turned to look at you, seeing that you were freaked out.

“What did I do? Did I…” – he asked, looking worried that he hurt you somehow.

“No.” – you lied, lurching forward once, wanting to get back to him, but stopping yourself, not sure if he would want you to.

The hesitation made him look at you with awful disappointment in himself and you rushed to him, feeling terrible that he would think you were afraid of him or didn’t want to be with him in a moment like this.

He felt cold and shaky when you wrapped your arms around him and tried to pull away and not disturb your sleep.

“I’ll just go grab a seat.” – he explained when he wouldn’t respond to your soft tugs to come rest against you. – “I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon.”

“Me neither.” – you confessed, still feeling rattled. – “Was it… did you have a dream about your time… about something bad that happened to you during your service? Was it those fucking diplomat assholes making you talk about it?” – you asked, feeling furious at them.

“S’not their fault. It’s just that I…don’t talk or think about it much anymore.” – he justified.

“Of course.” – you agreed. – “Come here. Please.” – you asked, stacking pillows under your head and half-sitting up so you could hold him and rock him till he calmed down.

If anything could take his mind off of the images that made him scream internally, it was cuddling up to you, so he relented and laid his head back on your chest, arms around your middle, one leg between yours, as you combed your fingers through his hair as soothingly as you could, your free hand running a thumb over his beautiful, tired features, his heavy lids, pouty lips, soft cheek… Although he was sure he would stay up until morning, like he usually did after these dreadful dreams, he slipped into a dreamless sleep without even noticing it creeping up on him.

*


End file.
